
Sweetgrass smoke curls low
under the cold listening moon
embers breathe alive.
About the Creator
E.S.Flint
Iβm an Indigenous storyteller using poetry, photography & fiction to explore identity, love, loss and all the spaces we return to.
What I can't say, I write or capture. Because feeling it all is the point.
Follow me on Instgram: es.flint




Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.