In winter I’ll know
by the harsh call of raven
and in spring, by blossom.
In summer, a warm wind
Kate Braid | HOW I’LL KNOW
HOW I’LL KNOW In winter I’ll know by the harsh call of raven and in spring, by blossom. In summer, a warm wind will wash like a bath sweetening and in autumn the squelch of wet garden as it rests. Always, this knowing, body-deep of a particular earth beneath my feet solid silence of […]