Tag: wyrd
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Hobobituary
Rotten with Druids cider, ruckling out breathy rebel songs Rum ruddled rounded cheeks, angelsheet a bellthroat throng A house window teases warm light, warmer than any fire without; in there is where I belong. In fact this house is the house I bought. My son and I tossing ball, imploring him “go long” The door…