Posted by: bluegatereview | March 2, 2018

Winter of 1798 (found poem)

 

went for eggs into the Coombe

and to the bakers

a hail shower

brought home large burthens

of sticks

a starlight evening, the sky

closed in

and the ground

white with snow

before we went

to bed

 

Dorothy Wordsworth (Diary)

 


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