Endless soil — a poem
Nov 15, 2020
I rediscovered my typewriter recently. A Royal Quiet De Luxe typewriter that is anything but quiet in the calm of the early morning.
It is attached to a raggedy black box, worn along all the edges from travels I never went on. Yet the contents of the box take me to places I have a hard time going otherwise.
My typewriter is the only place I can write without hesitation.
