Sweet pine, subtle breeze.
Summit of tranquillity.
The sights set me free.
How does it work?
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.
More stories from Sharna Halliwell and writers in Poets and other communities.
Never shall you find what lies beyond the mountains until you ascend.
By Sharna Halliwell3 years ago in Poets
i move at a glacial pace how to explain the fuzz in my head the sifting through the thoughts to figure out which ones
By aliabout 5 hours ago in Poets
Our inner city ghetto’s fail to offer any hope An economy that’s sadly based on robberies and dope Though businesses and industries won’t dream of moving in
By Earl W. Pearl3 days ago in Poets
Time is a tape measure, marked and countable but foldable back upon itself. The metal lip latches feebly, retracts with a snap, and nips your thumb.
By Nicky Frankly7 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.