Åsa K. OdbäckNov 7, 20181 min readTHE MORNINGThe Frost is gripping the throat of the MorningSlowly slowly he lets her goBut the flowers are already dead and the ground is whiteWhere can she go?The morning never had any shoesArt & Poetry3 views0 commentsPost not marked as liked
The Frost is gripping the throat of the MorningSlowly slowly he lets her goBut the flowers are already dead and the ground is whiteWhere can she go?The morning never had any shoes