Notes of a piano piece by Faure wind a trail along overgrown pathways, through the french doors with their wood-framed windows, into the post war lounge. The wireless in the corner broadcasts the tune that heralds fifteen minutes for those too young to go to school. I sit in the light of early afternoons; a shimmer through syringa leaves, a fall of shadows down the rockery...
Little Bo Peep
Have you any wool . . .
for my scarf of dreams?
Have you any wool . . .
for my scarf of dreams?
by Diana Webb
London, England
London, England
1 comment:
A beautifully concise haibun – love the scarf of dreams…
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