one hand free the mother leaves the pram fledgling on the street
July already one dead flower falls off the mock orange
in the terrace one hot short night No.6 a baby cries
Robin Rich is bin-man living in England. Blood has a good slug of Welsh in it. Middle aged writer. Just happened by accident like everything. Published and self-published.
@rrichwords to know more.
Photo by Micael Widell on Unsplash
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