Our soles glide on the
Flesh of the planet, crushing
All the life underneath
How does it work?
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More stories from Jada Ferguson and writers in Poets and other communities.
Who needs water when Earth, Wind, and Fire is on stage They hydrate the soul
By Jada Ferguson3 years ago in Poets
My heart breaks like shards of glass, Left on the floor, in tiny pieces, Though my love is still made to last; Your pain tears me into pieces,
By Carol Ann Townend7 days ago in Poets
It was 9:30 a.m. I went to the garden and saw the calendula sleeping. Its petals were still folded, still in slumber,
By Seema Patel6 days ago in Poets
The Doctor and I endure a painful dinner in partial silence until the scent of cherry blossom wafts through an open window. I breathe it in and try to capture it inside me.
By N J Delmas3 days ago in Chapters
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