Sunrise to sunset
Infant cries to final breaths
Long days to quick ends
Writing when I feel like it
How does it work?
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.
More stories from Bethany Larson and writers in Poets and other communities.
'How are you?' I ask myself. 'Fine,' I say, then we both laugh because we know it's not true. What I mean is I'm not fine.
By Bethany Larson3 years ago in Poets
It came Back! Karma came Back. She came back!!!!!! I Remember the thing we all did last summer. I want desperately to call my partners-in-crime...
By Novel Allen6 days ago in Poets
the somber light of day hits the same way as pitchfork black night As sleek as a black cat that strolls along the air of midnight, so alive like a million bubbling vibrating pieces of air
By Melissa Ingoldsbyabout 9 hours ago in Poets
Written by a human, for humans, always. --- There is a lot that is happening in the world. And often it seems... There are not enough people who are contributing.
By Dr. Cody Dakota Wooten, DFM, DHM, DAS (hc)4 days ago in Psyche
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.