Twenty-five degrees. A pleasant run. I did have on a light pair of gloves. But the feet were free, and the toes, you see, came happily along.
The wanderer roves from east to west,
in his wake the icy wind — he gathers stars
in his tattered sack, shows his back
then lights his lamp again.
.
[ 1384 ]
Categories: Sweet Sleep and Bare Feet
Tags: Bare Feet, Cold, Dawn, Running, Stars, Toes, Wind
William Michaelian 
Must venture on… 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes. May we all carry on as willingly.
LikeLike