Page 13

JONATHAN EYRE \

cold morning Drizzle whispers cold sweet nothings to the trees.

They and their daughters do not disturb the rain drops dare not sway their smallest branches strain to keep still under the gentle touch of water’s growing weight all stand silent pregnant dripping letting this finest rain gather on their dormant buds stroke their backs promising so much more.

TheLeedsDebacle_13

THE LEEDS DEBACLE  

Issue 15 of The Leeds Debacle

THE LEEDS DEBACLE  

Issue 15 of The Leeds Debacle

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