Chirping as I make my early morning rounds through the village. The woods just past market square are home to so many.
The town sleeps, yet others are long awake.
Who is early? Who late?
The rising sun will shine on us all shortly.
(Letter #3,923)
Chirping as I make my early morning rounds through the village. The woods just past market square are home to so many.
The town sleeps, yet others are long awake.
Who is early? Who late?
The rising sun will shine on us all shortly.
(Letter #3,923)