Back then, I would practically shit myself with natural delight when I stepped off the bus and the sun was shining/ always shining, although surely some years the last day of school must have been committed in the rain. I guess I block those ones out. And good for me, because what I recall is the radiance of a late morning/ deep and tender blue sky/ the…
© 2023 Serge Bielanko
Substack is the home for great writing