Each step is done slow
Rocky pebbles fall beneath
No fences in sight
How does it work?
More stories from K L and writers in Poets and other communities.
Volatile, open the mountains have hidden ghosts before our gray eyes
By K L3 years ago in Poets
patience pushing through provocation and pain with poise passively plastered on unperturbed faces papering over the cracks formed
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Fine edged inner sounds I wonder what you're hearing So far where you are
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It was a miserable day. It had been a miserable for a month and Peggy, the old doddery woman, waited at the bus stop in the pouring rain.
By Elizabeth Butler4 days ago in Fiction
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