02-20-2020, 06:28 PM
Hi All - first poem ever, I'm a woodworker so that's what this is about.
When the dust settles.
Iron cold and pullies fast
Air slows down and rest at last
Shadows grow and move out of sight
Planks reduce for the night.
Thanks Ian
When the dust settles.
Iron cold and pullies fast
Air slows down and rest at last
Shadows grow and move out of sight
Planks reduce for the night.
Thanks Ian
