Suddenly, it moved.
Summer quickly turns to fall.
With every leaf, bliss.
About the Creator
Moon Desert
UK-based
BA in Cultural Studies
Crime Fiction: Love
Poetry: Friend
Psychology: Salvation
I write only because there is a voice within me that will not be still.
Sylvia Plath
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Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
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Compelling and original writing
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More stories from Moon Desert and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Last Light of Summer
The cicadas sang their final symphony as Maya stood on her grandmother's porch, watching the sun bleed orange across the Kentucky hills. September had arrived with its bittersweet promise—the end of freedom, the return to structure, the closing of another chapter in her rapidly disappearing childhood.
By The Curious Writer5 days ago in Poets
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