Summer McDaniel
Bio
As a child I could create a story out of no where at anytime. Then I got lost in the world of stable jobs, financial gain, and intelligence over creativity. Join me as I attempt to reclaim my creativity!
Stories (6)
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Coming Home
The warm sun tingling on my skin on a spring morning. Dew on the grass, the first presence of flowering buds on the trees. Birds singing and a light breeze blowing my hair. Smells like damp earth and honeysuckles. Children running bare foot in the yard with the deepest belly giggles, it makes me grin from ear to ear. A dog at my side rubbing his head on my thigh. New life in my womb squirming around as if it too wants to come out and play. Big strong hands sliding across my stomach and a presence that feels like coming home after years of being away. I took my first look at you across the room, a stranger, and that is what I saw. Then you smiled at me and I thought surely my heart would burst.
By Summer McDaniel4 years ago in Poets
