I mused on the peak:
I wish I was a mountain -
Solid, permanent.
How does it work?
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.
More stories from Brittany Moore and writers in Poets and other communities.
It was over steaming coffee And some cooled, half-eaten toast That the brooding man locked eyes with The gentleman at the doorpost.
By Brittany Moore4 years ago in Poets
βand you call me embarrassing. your words sting, dripping with venom, sending my body into panic. I cry, half anger / half devastation.
By katherine j zumpano5 days ago in Poets
I think sitting out here under the moon and the stars makes me more poetic. It's better than sitting in an empty house.
By Colleen Walters8 days ago in Poets
I was not going to write about this because it is one of those subjects I find too painful to talk about. However, I've decided to take the courage to talk about it, because I feel my feelings on the topic need to be expressed.
By Carol Ann Townenda day ago in Humans
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.