Yesterday’s slush has set like poorly mixed concrete, and the road’s slick as glass. The Carolina wren sings a song I’ve never heard before.
The view from my front porch every morning, in 140 or fewer characters
Yesterday’s slush has set like...
This entry was posted in journal and tagged Carolina wren. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.
Both comments and trackbacks are currently closed.
