bluebonnet blooms bathed
the parched south Texas hillside,
dripping on the sky.
How does it work?
Love the alliteration and the picture painted!
More stories from Christine and writers in Poets and other communities.
I was 12 and there was a creek. It was deep, clear, blue and green. I stepped along two rocks, in to a ravine. Between a rock of struggle and one of choice.
By Christine about a year ago in Poets
Fruits abound in her garden and on her body Opposite an ocean and memories aroused Rested for four decades, they again embody
By Patrick M. Ohana2 days ago in Poets
I think that this is something that we would all like to do. When we smile at someone, even a complete stranger,
By Ruth Elizabeth Stiffa day ago in Poets
The conversation around me is muffled by my thoughts. I know how irrational the thought is but I can’t help but think about the possibility that Transport won’t realize we’re stranded down here. The other leads hammer Locke with questions: ‘Is the air filtration system functional?’ ‘What’s the plan?’ They don’t realize how pointless it is to question Locke, he doesn’t have a single answer to any question they ask.
By D. D. Lee5 days ago in Chapters
Comments (1)
Love the alliteration and the picture painted!