Weeping flower.
The Manchester sky again.
Smiling blue,
through the great
broken heart.
We should praise our
mutilated world.
And count the
holes it leaves.
As if this was
a new revelation.
Peaches of Manchester
Weeping flower.
The Manchester sky again.
Smiling blue,
through the great
broken heart.
We should praise our
mutilated world.
And count the
holes it leaves.
As if this was
a new revelation.
A Wandering Poet 