Night has uncloaked her beauty,
Her pale face shines
the jewels that adorn her shimmer
...
all around
...
there is stillness.
quiet.
slumber.
apart from my soul,
which stirs at the owls call.
paper and pen reach out to me
mirrored gestures of my own longing.
Hemmingway fills a glass for me
- liquid courage -
we turn the key to this vault together
slowly.
patiently.
intentionally.
I pull a thread from my heart
and stitch it into pages
so someone can see it.
so someone can know it.
so someone can touch it.
Maybe it can be taken from these lines
and sewn into your heart
Is that a legacy?
If a tree falls in a forest does it make a sound?
If a poets words are never read
...
was she ever known or found?
About the Creator
Ellie Hoovs
Breathing life into the lost and broken. Writes to mend what fire couldn't destroy. Poetry stitched from ashes, longing, and stubborn hope.
My Poetry Collection DEMORTALIZING is out now!!!: https://a.co/d/5fqwmEb
Keep reading
More stories from Ellie Hoovs and writers in Poets and other communities.
Volcanic, Verdant, and Very You
Let’s get one thing straight: Peridot isn’t just a gemstone. It’s a whole mood. The color of envy, abundance, grass-stained knees, summer’s last laugh, and the green spark of magic that lives under your skin when no one’s looking. Which makes it a perfect prompt for August - that bittersweet threshold between peak heat and first harvest, where we start turning inward while still dripping with sweat and sunscreen.
By Ellie HoovsExclusive • 5 months ago
A Dart at Dusk
Seconds ago, the sullen sun set on the two of us… my exuberant furry companion and me. A fresh breeze embraces us, delivering welcome relief from the day’s oppressive heat. His typical stumbling and staggering along — apace with a sloth — has turned into trip-trapping, high-stepping, almost skipping along.
By Angie the Archivist 📚🪶3 days ago in Petlife
Comments (1)
Thank you for sharing again.