gilded leaves on branch
rustling before the fall
summer's black rebirth
I write about the power of words to shift how we think and feel.
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I love the contrast of golden leaves with ‘summer’s black rebirth.’
More stories from Kathy Tsoukalas and writers in Poets and other communities.
There’s a place where the water swirls when it moves, as if remembering what it feels like to emerge. It's better to be alone here,
By Kathy Tsoukalas8 months ago in Poets
Something sits at the end of my tongue. A memory that is unable to form into words. A distant train bellows with the same frustration that pollutes the whites of my eyes.
By Amanda Abela7 days ago in Poets
I was certain that the magic would work My lantern and carpet should have allowed My voyage to transcend the local murk Permitting me to flee the foolish crowd
By D. J. Reddall6 days ago in Poets
Rachel went back to her dorm room, took a shower, and changed. She sat down to write all her conflicting thoughts in the pilot journal she used as a diary. Finishing a second page, she heard a knock on her door. It was Laura.
By Lana V Lynx3 days ago in Chapters
Comments (1)
I love the contrast of golden leaves with ‘summer’s black rebirth.’