ÃÛÑ¿´«Ã½

Available for over a year

privacy I have come home. This room is my room and the wind, restless outside, driving the sea hard against the shore, is mine, and the salt smell driving into my nose, mine, and the bus which so slowly passed hedges and field, the tractor turning left, is mine, and when the driver says do you want to get out here I do and the man in reception is handing me the key. From the collection, island, published by Colophon Press