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Abstract
the evening draws her final breath of day, and sparrows flit to nest, we sigh for all that’s done among the hordes and deep between the clefts.</p><p id="34f1">And moonlight shines on every crevice, underlining each fault and crack to fill fear brim-ward.</p><p id="0e09">Then dawn perches, and night creatures scamper, as warmth creeps into these bones to shake away the dark.</p><div id="1ffa" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/those-tulip-days-30a68759a9b">
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<div> <div> <h2>Those Tulip Days</h2> <div><h3>Poetry</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*C2Qo9K8eT9Sb0SBv-3mLGw.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><p id="e1ec"><b><i>Copyright © 2020 Bridget Webber. All rights reserved</i></b></p></article></body>
When the evening draws her final breath of day, and sparrows flit to nest, we sigh for all that’s done among the hordes and deep between the clefts.
And moonlight shines on every crevice, underlining each fault and crack to fill fear brim-ward.
Then dawn perches, and night creatures scamper, as warmth creeps into these bones to shake away the dark.
Copyright © 2020 Bridget Webber. All rights reserved
