The mountain shivers
As the breeze plays its sad songs
Rustling brittle leaves
I write and take photos.
How does it work?
Superb!!!
More stories from Chad Verzosa and writers in Poets and other communities.
Here I seek answers Where the wind whispers secrets That fade in the clouds
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sometimes I overflow like bubbles down the side of a glass blown in through a straw by an overenthusiastic child sometimes it's beautiful
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When I think about my childhood, many memories come rushing back—long summer days, dusty playgrounds, and evenings spent laughing with family. But among all those memories, there is one thing I miss more than anything else: a simple sound that once filled my world with comfort and happiness.
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Loud laughter leaks from the lunchroom… door sitting slightly ajar. Surely today will be different. As they say, “Today is the start of the rest of my life!”
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Superb!!!