Noon
By MichellePublished about a year ago • 1 min read
Photo by Stefan Friebis on Unsplash
There is a high moon.
It looms with my heart beat.
The beat slowly dies.
About the Creator
The First Rainbow Baby
Pitter-patter, pitter-patter. The rain fell in rhythmic splatters, slowly slowing, but still constant. Mira rolled onto her side pulling the blanket tight against her ears, but still she could hear chitter-chatter and scurrying feet of the creatures that refused to sleep in the lower decks.
By A. J. Schoenfeld5 days ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
Beautiful Poem. Nicely Done!!!
This hit me so hard. Loved your poem!