the reddest of fro, on tow & snowshoes as still, if only once o’erstocking, a cold man to a green, as tingling to sub-limbs, so wanting wood, I know a pink slip dozens fit
Poetry
the reddest of fro, on tow & snowshoes as still, if only once o’erstocking, a cold man to a green, as tingling to sub-limbs, so wanting wood, I know a pink slip dozens fit