Red, gold, green, brown drift,
gray grass waits as kites dance high—
last leaf feeds the earth.
How does it work?
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.
More stories from Dagmar Goeschick and writers in Poets and other communities.
Winter arrives without asking. It comes quietly, often overnight, when the world has decided to slow down. Winter is cold. Winter is white. Winter lasts three long months—sometimes more—and sometimes it comes with snow, and sometimes only with the promise of it. Either way, it changes everything.
By Dagmar GoeschickExclusive • 30 days ago
In these battered halls are sung the songs of broken yesterdays Visions of sweeter tomorrows knelt blithely in the pews Un-bittered by want and regret
By Ian Read4 days ago in Poets
Cold toes warm up in Slipper Socks from grandma Unloved until winter chill.
By Tammy Castleman6 days ago in Poets
Welcome to the Winners Announcement for The Ritual of Winter challenge. This prompt focused on winter rituals and the meaning that settles into them over time. The top pieces stay grounded in ordinary acts and repeated routines, letting winter shape the work through pace, attention, and restraint.
By Vocal Curation Team6 days ago in Resources
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.