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Weston-Super-Mare
The sun takes the looking-glass flat lake, whose old sides dribble mud and bubble over the rim by the rocks and wrinkled bladderwrack. We’re in the panto-zone and a snow-white black-faced gull drifts past the pier. < back |
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Weston-Super-Mare
The sun takes the looking-glass flat lake, whose old sides dribble mud and bubble over the rim by the rocks and wrinkled bladderwrack. We’re in the panto-zone and a snow-white black-faced gull drifts past the pier. < back |
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