Little sparrow, little sparrow
He has forgotten the convent walls, the iron gate and its thousand barbs, the doors whose hinges screamed as they opened and closed. But he remembers the garden; stepping into that confused mass of greenery hidden behind crumbling stone and rotting wood, his feet sinking into grass and makahiya, yet another child despoiling a secret […]
by Mia on 12:38 am, April 28, 2008 in writing none spoke