Autumn's a River,
streams of gold, burnt reds, yellows-
my boat is ready.
How does it work?
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.
More stories from Kathleen Thompson and writers in Poets and other communities.
Walking in the woods is my daily cup of tea as I steep in nature; my perfect elixer for aging with grace. With each walk I see my personal landscape differently,
By Kathleen Thompson6 months ago in Poets
Gasoline costs more since Trump started his Iranian war Washington state is always higher, because here, all our awesome benefits
By Andrea Corwin a day ago in Poets
Bubbling and crackling with rotting decay and popping toxic algae the seafoam congeals upwards forming a skinwalker. It races after their target
By Seashell Harpspring 6 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 Hollow5 days ago in Psyche
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.