You saw me in spiked heels and felt up the leather skirt leaning over your polished bonnet in the pulsing minutes before the drag race took off. On my calendar we took drives on Sunday afternoons to shaded woodland spots. There we sat on a blanket and picnicked.
Two poems to go until I hit my 104 total! The aim was to write two poems a week across the 52 weeks of one year.
It’s been quite a year.