Look at all these paths
created by stars and chance,
blood through tunneled roads.
About the Creator
K. Kocheryan
I write, delete, write, and on most days, delete again.
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More stories from K. Kocheryan and writers in Poets and other communities.
Wounds
Do I climb, Chiron? to heal my old, open wounds the Mount calls often
By K. Kocheryanabout a year ago in Poets
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
Comments (1)
Neat imagery!