I met a migrant from a distant land who sang: in a garden beyond lies the wreck of a birdbath, pieces strewn across the sand, its slimed bowl cracked, of water not a speck. Split
I met a migrant from a distant land who sang: in a garden beyond lies the wreck of a birdbath, pieces strewn across the sand, its slimed bowl cracked, of water not a speck. Split