Country Style

A MOTHER’S LOVE

WE ARE TUMBLING towards winter, the afternoons are short and last light is a sharp golden blast that I miss if I get caught inside. I rush through evening jobs to steal a walk with the dogs and even though we hurry, the dark catches us and the grey of dusk sinks to a crisp black out of which skeletons of gums loom, marking my track home. I’ve

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