Golden leaves cascade
whispers ride the autumn breeze
beauty fades to dusk
How does it work?
Loved it.
More stories from David M and writers in Poets and other communities.
Forget your name. Fold it into paper. Let it drift downstream. Stop replying to echoes. They are not yours anymore.
By David M5 months ago in Poets
Hindi is my native language. English is my main mode of study and writing. Latin, I have some command, for I studied biology for decades.
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No relationship is without its wear and tear. Friction, misunderstandings, and unfulfilled expectations are inevitable between people.
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“Hi, Pop. How are you feeling today?” “I’m feeling fine, but who are you?” “I’m Jacob, your son. I was here visiting you yesterday, remember?”
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Comments (1)
Loved it.