Spill Feb8 In the holy place seven beggars congregate— wooden bowls spill songs. Nibbling Feb7 field mice at midnight— three pilgrims in the pantry nibbling apple pie Egrets Feb6 She lies down to dream within the temple precincts— white egrets take flight. Lotus Feb5 three weary pilgrims losing heart along the way— a whiff of lotus Bells Feb4 temple bells at dawn— a hundred pigeons flutter books fall from my shelves Dust Feb3 Lady Wisdom speaks, the ants and ravens quiver— my books turn to dust. Pens Feb2 ten thousand strangers writing their biographies— all the empty pens Banjo Feb1 two old strangers writing biographies with banjo strings Post navigation Newer posts → Privacy & Cookies: This site uses cookies. By continuing to use this website, you agree to their use. To find out more, including how to control cookies, see here: Cookie Policy Subscribe Subscribed Mark M. Redfearn Join 489 other subscribers Sign me up Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now. Mark M. Redfearn Customize Subscribe Subscribed Sign up Log in Report this content View site in Reader Manage subscriptions Collapse this bar
Nibbling Feb7 field mice at midnight— three pilgrims in the pantry nibbling apple pie Egrets Feb6 She lies down to dream within the temple precincts— white egrets take flight. Lotus Feb5 three weary pilgrims losing heart along the way— a whiff of lotus Bells Feb4 temple bells at dawn— a hundred pigeons flutter books fall from my shelves Dust Feb3 Lady Wisdom speaks, the ants and ravens quiver— my books turn to dust. Pens Feb2 ten thousand strangers writing their biographies— all the empty pens Banjo Feb1 two old strangers writing biographies with banjo strings Post navigation Newer posts → Privacy & Cookies: This site uses cookies. By continuing to use this website, you agree to their use. To find out more, including how to control cookies, see here: Cookie Policy Subscribe Subscribed Mark M. Redfearn Join 489 other subscribers Sign me up Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now. Mark M. Redfearn Customize Subscribe Subscribed Sign up Log in Report this content View site in Reader Manage subscriptions Collapse this bar
Egrets Feb6 She lies down to dream within the temple precincts— white egrets take flight. Lotus Feb5 three weary pilgrims losing heart along the way— a whiff of lotus Bells Feb4 temple bells at dawn— a hundred pigeons flutter books fall from my shelves Dust Feb3 Lady Wisdom speaks, the ants and ravens quiver— my books turn to dust. Pens Feb2 ten thousand strangers writing their biographies— all the empty pens Banjo Feb1 two old strangers writing biographies with banjo strings Post navigation Newer posts → Privacy & Cookies: This site uses cookies. By continuing to use this website, you agree to their use. To find out more, including how to control cookies, see here: Cookie Policy Subscribe Subscribed Mark M. Redfearn Join 489 other subscribers Sign me up Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now. Mark M. Redfearn Customize Subscribe Subscribed Sign up Log in Report this content View site in Reader Manage subscriptions Collapse this bar
Lotus Feb5 three weary pilgrims losing heart along the way— a whiff of lotus Bells Feb4 temple bells at dawn— a hundred pigeons flutter books fall from my shelves Dust Feb3 Lady Wisdom speaks, the ants and ravens quiver— my books turn to dust. Pens Feb2 ten thousand strangers writing their biographies— all the empty pens Banjo Feb1 two old strangers writing biographies with banjo strings Post navigation Newer posts → Privacy & Cookies: This site uses cookies. By continuing to use this website, you agree to their use. To find out more, including how to control cookies, see here: Cookie Policy Subscribe Subscribed Mark M. Redfearn Join 489 other subscribers Sign me up Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now. Mark M. Redfearn Customize Subscribe Subscribed Sign up Log in Report this content View site in Reader Manage subscriptions Collapse this bar
Bells Feb4 temple bells at dawn— a hundred pigeons flutter books fall from my shelves Dust Feb3 Lady Wisdom speaks, the ants and ravens quiver— my books turn to dust. Pens Feb2 ten thousand strangers writing their biographies— all the empty pens Banjo Feb1 two old strangers writing biographies with banjo strings Post navigation Newer posts → Privacy & Cookies: This site uses cookies. By continuing to use this website, you agree to their use. To find out more, including how to control cookies, see here: Cookie Policy Subscribe Subscribed Mark M. Redfearn Join 489 other subscribers Sign me up Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now. Mark M. Redfearn Customize Subscribe Subscribed Sign up Log in Report this content View site in Reader Manage subscriptions Collapse this bar
Dust Feb3 Lady Wisdom speaks, the ants and ravens quiver— my books turn to dust. Pens Feb2 ten thousand strangers writing their biographies— all the empty pens Banjo Feb1 two old strangers writing biographies with banjo strings Post navigation Newer posts → Privacy & Cookies: This site uses cookies. By continuing to use this website, you agree to their use. To find out more, including how to control cookies, see here: Cookie Policy Subscribe Subscribed Mark M. Redfearn Join 489 other subscribers Sign me up Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now. Mark M. Redfearn Customize Subscribe Subscribed Sign up Log in Report this content View site in Reader Manage subscriptions Collapse this bar
Pens Feb2 ten thousand strangers writing their biographies— all the empty pens Banjo Feb1 two old strangers writing biographies with banjo strings Post navigation Newer posts →