Stoic masses stand above
Reaching egos to erode
Yelling for redemption
How does it work?
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.
More stories from Ricky Lanusse and writers in Poets and other communities.
Brittle breezes drift about Collecting spirits to hoard Calling for paradise
By Ricky Lanusse3 years ago in Poets
sit in the doorway peach trees foretelling their bloom last year’s jam on toast * I wait for the peach trees to bloom. The buds are swelled and fuzzy, a soft pale green.
By Natalie Wilkinson2 days ago in Poets
Simplest single rose to a whole bouquet of women formal and insignificant I know, but rose smells even today to me... intoxicated by the soul deep red as the deepest well,
By Iris V.5 days ago in Poets
Two and a half centuries ago, The muck of the Iwandapowa swamp parted. A great eye socket emerged, and blinked the cake of the terrain away.
By Noah Husband4 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.