Nightjar
I can’t say I knew her, even though she travelled
through my body as if there was some kind of cosmic allegiance. Often on nights
of insomnia, I would don my earphones, lay back on the sofa, and let her flow.
a rendition
Mandinka drifting through
the undergrowth
RIP Sinead
By
Robert Kingston
A fitting tribute from a true fan. Nice piece Rob...
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