snow was general all over the county. It was
falling on every part of the dark central river of the Chesapeake, on
the forested hills, falling softly upon the Whittaker Barrens and,
farther eastward softly falling into the dark mutinous Atlantic waves.
It was falling, too, upon the Blue Heron, stoically standing their day
on the waters
[w/apologies to James Joyce where-ever he may be]
[w/apologies to James Joyce where-ever he may be]
No comments:
Post a Comment