Wistful withering.
Wilting wanton wanderers.
Willed with wintry winds.
How does it work?
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.
More stories from George Zelinski and writers in Poets and other communities.
Autumn trees tell me We’ll end being wind spun leaves Seeking endless life
By George Zelinski5 months ago in Poets
They told me I was damned, but then they made me saved. Unholy. They made me holy. They said I was in pieces, damaged and afraid.
By Amanda Abela7 days ago in Poets
Start by staying still. Don't look for music, or light, or distractions. Sadness arrives more easily. when it doesn't have to compete with anything.
By Lydia martinez6 days ago in Poets
There are days when I’m grateful Amazon doesn’t tell me specifically who has bought my book and who hasn’t. If they did, I would be heartbroken when I read the list and noticed all the important names in my life were not on my list of customers.
By Ellen Frances6 days ago in Writers
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.