Last night I went to bed, thunder crashing in my head, the thumping of a big bass drum, clashing cymbals of a pitch unknown, my mind a buzzing with a swarm of bees, the rustling of near autumn trees, keen to make sense of the immersive swirl, orchestral movement in a whisking whirl, night wrench doth realise will bring no peace, have no sleep, no way will ease, a flightless breeze
Saturday, 19 June 2021
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The future of History
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