Poetic coincidence
Pass the time with the words from the mouths of the poets who wrote it better.
Bitter sweet mourning for the person I once knew
The one so sure that the world would soon be at her feet.
She lives in the corners of my mind
And hides in the crevices of my memories.
Her laugh still echoes as though it were still near
And her touch still lingers on my skin
As if it were only yesterday that I last felt the brush of her fingertips.
I mourn the person who knew the moon by name
And called the stars her friends
And held frequent meetings with the universe
Pleading for signs that were too poetic to be coincidental.
About the Creator
Domenique Snyders
Hello Vocal readers! My name is Domenique and I'm a freelance writer in South Africa. Soon-to-be published author, ready to tell you a story!
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One Minute to Noon
“OK, guys!” I screech over the macaw-like chatter in my sophomore English class. My students are sharing mementos they accumulated during summer vacation. The assignment is to interview each other and write an expository essay about another student’s treasure: Misty’s coquina shells and sand dollars from Florida, Ruth’s two Navajo pottery mugs from New Mexico, Roxy’s perfume from Paris, Kevin’s chocolate from Hershey Pennsylvania, a picador’s sword from a bullfight in San Fermin Spain, where one of my favorite students, Manny Pérez, ran with the bulls at festival.
By Lacy Loar-Gruenler4 days ago in Fiction
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