I have never learnt road names.

I direct by landmarks.

A long corner green bank.

A not so crumbled cottage.

The island with a Pegasus.

Some signified home.

The gentle hill that stole your breath.

The smell of coffee from the motorway.

The mass evacuation on the train.

Others signified adventure.

The golden letters on red brick.

The short sharp whistle.

The windmill that lost its sails.

In few I found forever.

The sparkle of a star held in chocolate eyes.

The laugh that rings through each room.

The passion that sparks fires.


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