I know a place where the green ivy grows longer, no news of the affairs of men only the occasional sound of fisherman’s whistle. What is this room? The sun shines and I boil my tea; When the moon comes I read stories. I have no news to report. Other than to know that eventually [...]
Archive for November 24th, 2009
one cup, edge cracked.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged fisherman, ivy, stories, tea on November 24, 2009 | 3 Comments »
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