I crumble the leaf
Into a million pieces
Scattered like lost dreams
About the Creator
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More stories from Carolyn Sternes and writers in Poets and other communities.
Babbling Dixie
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 Lachapelle3 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
This sounds like the first line of a book to be read by firelight through the winter, drawing you into the story and not letting you go. Thank you for writing and sharing.