Photo by Daphné Richard on Unsplash
Little yellow bud
Called a weed by those who do
Not understand hope
About the Creator
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More stories from Joelle E N and writers in Poets and other communities.
A Love Forboding
The chipped stone slope caused unbearable footing. I slid, skirting on my heels. I cast my shield, relinquishing my guard to stay upright. Left with my double-edge and a prayer to the maker, I skated toward my objective. The earthly stubble gave way to solid ground. I found myself restored, a trail of dust in my wake.
By James U. Rizzi7 days ago in Fiction
Comments (4)
Oh wow! You knocked it out the park with this one! Well done, Joelle!
A great outlook on such a small thing 🥰
love this so much!
This one is my favorite so far!!! The last line really adds the masterful touch.