I walk where the wild things hush, through nettled paths and bone-white birches, where frost clings like memory…so tightly,
By Cadma3 months ago in Poets
I hold on to the little things Were all these items in a store I would not think to buy them Now not much else means more
By Raine Fielder3 months ago in Poets
Frigid wind pulls all the life from earth Knives of cold pierce the skin A song that plays in the night The warmth drains from without and in
I came at dusk, when air was still, and found the orchard overgrown. The trees leaned close upon the hill— their fruit had ripened, then had flown.
By Rebecca A Hyde Gonzales3 months ago in Poets
I stepped beyond the hush of air, where shadows bloom and lanterns fade. The light was there, yet not quite there— a shimmer born of what I made.
The trail grew thin; the stars grew strange. Their silver voices fell to sleep. I walked through air that would not change, where thought was shallow, sound was deep.
**Four Days of Love** Four days of love, a whispered dream, A fragile world, a sparkling gleam. Promises shimmered, like colors so bright,
By Saffron Realm3 months ago in Poets
on the 5th, we bought red mums on the 9th, we had to put our cat down on the 9th, at some pier wind gusting hair in my face i wrote this and hoped the wind would take away some of the pain:
By Alexandria Stanwyck3 months ago in Poets
The leaves are falling The trees are disappearing What should I do now? It is dreams pressing on my head What remains now?
By ahmedibrahem3 months ago in Poets
When all the stars forget to burn, and night forgets her borrowed name, the last lantern will still return— its glow the heart of every flame.
At dusk, I walk the orchard rows— the air still sweet with apple rain. The trees breathe stories no one knows, their roots remembering his name.
I set a lantern on the stream, its flame a single, trembling word. The river answered like a dream— a hymn too soft to be unheard.
