Swaying tree branches
leaves delicately rustling
a cool-tempered breeze
How does it work?
Nice
More stories from P. Totti and writers in Poets and other communities.
Curling water breaks revealing at the shoreline tiny shells and stones
By P. Tottiabout a year ago in Poets
You don’t see me, do you? So carefully posed in parched contempt. This is all survival beyond injury and death, all plates and spikes. This
By Rae Solacea day ago in Poets
The garden of dreams, where our hopes bloom A place of beauty, where our hearts can resume The flowers of joy, they bloom in every hue
By Albin3 days ago in Poets
The short days were getting longer. As the sun dipped below the horizon, the blue hour created the magic of the darkest phase of twilight. It was time to put Oliver to bed. Yaya felt the muse come alive when he asked for a story.
By Katherine D. Graham3 days ago in Wander
Comments (1)
Nice