I crumble the leaf
Into a million pieces
Scattered like lost dreams
How does it work?
This sounds like the first line of a book to be read by firelight through the winter, drawing you into the story and not letting you go. Thank you for writing and sharing.
More stories from Carolyn Sternes and writers in Poets and other communities.
The road beneath is behind me. The air is still. Tyres stop spinning — no traction. Imitating life: no resistance for the car
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A new day passes, sun setting, the night sky radiant in its colours, She quietly watches, Silently contemplating, As the world spins on its axis.
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Comments (1)
This sounds like the first line of a book to be read by firelight through the winter, drawing you into the story and not letting you go. Thank you for writing and sharing.