A poem about leaving. Last Call For Whitfield

3 1/2 hours on train in 25 degrees builds a certain momentum to leave. Add this with the deadline of a departing flight to catch. In the time on the train from Milazzo to Palermo the only entertainment was a rather large bee that was flying up and down the carriage. If i could haveContinue reading “A poem about leaving. Last Call For Whitfield”