the colors under
my boots and gray, gloomy skies
will soon fade to brown
How does it work?
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.
More stories from Kay Husnick and writers in Poets and other communities.
If I were her, I would never eat another blueberry again.
By Kay Husnick6 months ago in Poets
We are the ones who are there when you are down We wait for you when you’re not around We know if you go out, you will always return
By Calvin London2 days ago in Poets
toxic deceitful bloom bouquet of trickery beautiful insincerity false love
By Tina D. Lopeza day ago in Poets
Looking back, I can trace some of my life’s biggest adventures to a simple action from my sister. She’d introduced me to Tommy (a very long time ago), a colleague of hers, who had overshared his penchant for Italian-looking women, and I ticked that box.
By Chantal Christie Weiss6 days ago in Humans
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.