Sometimes I wonder what I might hear. The wind in my hair, a drop falling down my cheek like a fresh cried tear. It’s just not real, not clear. But in the meantime, it really appears. It’s there, like a whisper in my ear. Just like a teardrop from a cloud which will appear like a whistle in the windand a whisper in my ear… De Gans
poetry
Quote of the Week:
GALERIE
Marije De Gans
