Slipping from my grasp,
answering to no other
will, except it’s own.
How does it work?
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.
More stories from Jennifer Sara Widelitz and writers in Poets and other communities.
I planted forget- me-nots when you passed away. They have yet to bloom.
By Jennifer Sara Widelitz3 years ago in Poets
I have not been able to sleep Last night I crawled to bed And lay there Staring at the Ceiling My hernia Would
By Sam Spinelli5 days ago in Poets
They’d pave paradise For a floodlit parking lot Children have their say - o - o - Planning Application 26/00352/
By Raymond G. Taylor6 days ago in Poets
The haiku often gets treated as an exercise of how much can be said in a small space. How much weight those seventeen syllables can carry.
By Vocal Curation Team3 days ago in Resources
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.