Soft, moist, loamy soil,
Petrichor nests in my nose
Autumn’s aroma.
How does it work?
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.
More stories from Julia Sinton and writers in Poets and other communities.
Sticky is water, Mayflies float, long summer days— Rings ripple silent.
By Julia Sinton3 years ago in Poets
perhaps it was always me to blame but i never played never played the cheating game i never ever thought to stray
By Bren2 days ago in Poets
I thought I had sealed it properly, laid each brick with steady hands, stacked them high enough to block the weather out.
By Bea Buttona day ago in Poets
I’m sensitive to energies and sure, some would call me a freak, weirdo, I’ve even been called a pyscho but I’ve always known who I really was in the back of my mind.
By Latoya M.D6 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.