
Dreams of Australia (part I)
“Candle smoke floats through a filter so fine, — A native haze fills the air, divine. — And though the time has not yet come, — I gaze upon my footprints, one by one.”
1–2 minutes

“Candle smoke floats through a filter so fine, — A native haze fills the air, divine. — And though the time has not yet come, — I gaze upon my footprints, one by one.”
Leave a comment