Easter Sunday:
bright blue,
Lapislazulish,
cold.
Crusty as a dead cat
I crawl and prowl
the Vatican
awaiting a peep at
The Frank One.
Lovely weather for it too:
Rising from the dead
after a day off.
Scoff all eggs
Comment
Name
Email
Website
Turn on JavaScript to leave a comment.
Δ
This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.
Have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.