Poetry: “Herbal Tea”

I line boxes up along the windowsill, mirroring the line of birds picking Hawthorn berries, full of hope for the winter. Each one promises, to see me through the darkness ahead. It only takes a moment, for my hopes to vanish, all wings and shrill calls leaving the windowsill empty of anything but tea. Elisabeth Kelly i
— Read on www.selcouthstation.com/

Published by Elisabethkelly

Elisabeth Kelly is a mum, teacher and poet. She lives on a Scottish Borders Hill farm with too many animals. She loves chocolate puddings and the change of seasons.

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