Cold air leaves a mist
memories dance like a tryst
With each chill your missed
About the Creator
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More stories from Kenneth cruz and writers in Poets and other communities.
Sipping From The Siren: Hot Coffee and Trepid Thoughts
As steaming smoke snakes and rises, I see trepidation as wars escalate, bodies fall and missiles flash, it’s the 4th of July in reverse, ports closed, prices soar, a hurricane roars, overseas our money we pour
By Kenneth cruzabout a year ago in Poets
Becca
"Everything is so... flat." Denille said stupidly as she looked around her new neighborhood. She looked around at the muted desert where even the smallest sign of life seemed to have given up. The plant life was shrubs that were half cooked by the heat and where there should have been a lawn, a mess of white rocks laid glistening in the sun. Even the sky looked stretched thin, like the sun had ironed it smooth. She’d moved from Riverside, where at least there were hills, but here in Barstow, everything felt baked and brittle.
By Sara Wilsona day ago in Fiction
Comments (3)
Sad and I agree that it sounds like song lyrics. Nicely Done!!
Reads like song lyrics.
We all have somebody we miss like this. Loved your Haiku!