Golden leaves cascade
whispers ride the autumn breeze
beauty fades to dusk
How does it work?
Loved it.
More stories from David M and writers in Poets and other communities.
Forget your name. Fold it into paper. Let it drift downstream. Stop replying to echoes. They are not yours anymore.
By David M7 months ago in Poets
sometimes I overflow like bubbles down the side of a glass blown in through a straw by an overenthusiastic child sometimes it's beautiful
By Lolly Vieira2 days ago in Poets
I float, but don't fly Can’t get that high Slowly I rise Carried by the wind Created by breath Reflecting the creator
By L.I.E3 days ago in Poets
The tales and whispers have proven true. The evil that has lurked in the shadows now prowls beneath the moon, taking on the flesh of our storyweaver in order to deceive our brethren.
By Amanda Starks4 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
Loved it.