January 2011
7 posts
Those Winter Sundays →
jesuisperdu:
Sundays too my father got up early And put his clothes on in the blueback cold, then with cracked hands that ached from labor in the weekday weather made banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him. I’d wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking. When the rooms were warm, he’d call, and slowly…
nickelcobalt:
New Order — Ceremony