A seagull flies towards the horizon. I look over blues upon greens rocks as rugged as lone cowboys, John Wayne, Clint Eastwood, that sort of thing, you… Read more “Harbour”
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Country Roads
All roads lead to nowhere, except for the one that takes me home, my favourite one that stretches into fields of nothingness. Bare land whose only inhabitant… Read more “Country Roads”
James Linton Writing 