Citrus light flickers
sharp whispers brush the cool night
bitter blooms in breeze.
How does it work?
More stories from Test and writers in Poets and other communities.
The first winter snow arrives at 9.47 and the world seems to pause as if holding its breath. The slow drifting flakes open a doorway in memory and I return to the journals that waited in my old suitcase. Seven years fall away and I meet the voice I once carried. That voice wrote of promises and direction with a trembling certainty that surprised me even now.
By Test4 months ago in Poets
5th avenue in boxing gloves what's tied to you they want to have two bags from saks red bottom shoes random attacks mask and tattoo
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden7 days ago in Poets
I think sitting out here under the moon and the stars makes me more poetic. It's better than sitting in an empty house.
By Colleen Walters25 minutes ago in Poets
I shouldn't be surprised- it's just like Papa to leave the planning to the last minute. But this? Unbelievable. A person's birthdate doesn't change from year to year, now, does it? Most people have their 60th Event planned years in advance.
By Judey Kalchik 5 days ago in Fiction
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