Heavenly glory
Speaks volumes and quiets pain
Each time the sky greets
About the Creator
Keep reading
More stories from Nicole Wong and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Lesions of Devotion
Every day I set myself down on the freshly cut lawn and strip myself bare. I take my guitar and finger the frets and pick at the strings, listening for dissonance. My life is dissonance. I twist the tuning pegs until each string sounds bright. Then I kneel, calves pointing behind me, kneecaps facing forward. All exposed to the breeze. I close my eyes and play the melody.
By Paul Stewart5 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.