Pages

Thursday 13 June 2019

My writing

This is a forest.  My nose can smell sweet scents in the air. I can see skinny trees

reaching to the sun. My hands can feel something. They can feel the bridge. 

    My eyes can see  dark woods beyond. My  ears can hear   cockroaches. 

My moth can taste the fresh air. 

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.