On a cloudless night
the stars shine like diamonds spilled
'cross indigo silk.
How does it work?
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.
More stories from Marsha Singh and writers in Poets and other communities.
Blue burst of feathers, a quarrel at the feeder – Blue jay wins again.
By Marsha Singh3 years ago in Poets
Of course we're locked Into our sufferings, Said Cohen / Yet I've loved you of A love with no name And couldn't be
By M.about 12 hours ago in Poets
Familiar hum Flash of green emerald blue Vanished miracle . .
By PK Colleran6 days ago in Poets
If we are not in tune with our bodies, if trauma or dissociation distorts our natural rhythms, we are unable to feel a sense of agency over our lives.
By Kera Hollow4 days ago in Psyche
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.