Poetry: A special kind of kindness and The alarm clock By Kingsley Alumona
She turns in her sleep and floods my face with her hair
On the side table, a cat is mopping at the clock
I do not know where I am. I do not know who owns the cat
She turns in her sleep and floods my face with her hair
On the side table, a cat is mopping at the clock
I do not know where I am. I do not know who owns the cat