Grey, sharp ruggedness -
Glacial sun reaches down
Promises of awe.
Storyteller. Poet. Reviewer. Traveller.
I love to write. Check me out in the many places where I pop up:
Medium
My blog
Reedsy
Linkedin
Goodreads
X
Facebook
Beware of imitators.
How does it work?
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.
More stories from Rachel Deeming and writers in Poets and other communities.
I wish I was high. Rising on the horizon Beckoning me on.
By Rachel Deeming3 years ago in Poets
Do I do the last of you justice? Or have I swept away the embers That burned on your deathbed, Replaced them with something
By Silver Daux7 days ago in Poets
The white dove hangs suspended above a world that has already ended, its wings spread wide yet motionless, feathers luminous against the bruise of sky,
By Diane Foster2 days ago in Poets
It could have been the perfect summer day. The hot July sun warmed the water in the backyard pool just enough to be comfortable and refreshing. The laughter of the five little girls echoed against the splashing water as they chased each other in a classic game of Marco Polo. The game distracted them enough that they failed to notice the dipping sun nearing the horizon. Their fingers and toes had long ago turned wrinkly like raisins, but none wondered why they had been left to play so long today.
By A. J. Schoenfeld5 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.