Drip-drop melting snow
The smell of dirt, salt, and joy
It's spring, and I'm five
About the Creator
AnaRosa Cruz
creative writer, martial artist, obfuscation, goblin, rock hound. New to poetry, but having fun just letting my brain spill onto the page.
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The Light Turns
It's Tuesday 7:13 a.m. A cold and clear November morning awaits Ray on his morning commute. Ray rubs his hands together in the front seat of his Subaru. He turns the air temperature up, but keeps the air on low until the air warms up. He looks at the backup camera screen and reverses the Subaru out of his driveway onto Trimble Road.
By John R. Godwin4 days ago in Fiction
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