Sad
17/07/2025
I
Ian MilesNovice Poet
A Warm Blanket
My hobby, building a garden wall. Oh, he’s off to play with his bricks, my wife jokes to a neighbourly pal. In a snap, those words come back, sitting on the rug, about 6, my mother says: Go on, awa and play with your bricks. Such sweet memories, like a warm blanket on cold days brings a cosy peace in that brief moment before sleep.
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