On my way to you
I saw red browns oranges
Looking up at me
How does it work?
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.
More stories from Lore S. Crown and writers in Poets and other communities.
This is how I remember it: You cuddled up with your boyfriend in a hammock near the beach, while I played at the water's edge in Fajardo at Seven Seas.
By Lore S. Crown 9 months ago in Poets
I was visiting beautiful Glacier National Park. it should have been the trip of a lifetime. in many ways, it was, but not fully.
By Seema Patel7 days ago in Poets
Window. Empty window Do not kill the words. Fill with moisture every crystal grain of yours. And your two leaves, eyes that gape open..
By Manuel C.5 days ago in Poets
The short form of tomorrow is never the whole story. Abbreviations mean nothing when we are born to die and we all are aren't we? Being spoken for before birth is something we're not supposed to remember like some kind of karma after effect. Still here we are spending our lives looking for each other.
By Canuck Scriber Lisa Lachapelle7 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.