While Children Play on a Tyre Swing…

This spring the green is wild, profuse and supreme, exotic and extant - the white cane chair left on the lawn seems to float in clovery billows. Over a mower's roar and the whispered conspiracy of the wind, the children's voices are cheerfully elemental like the clatter of rain. Painted shadows tangle, restless and involuntary; … Continue reading While Children Play on a Tyre Swing…