Ever rise from dust,
to break open the white clouds,
I fall at your feet.
Got bit by the writing bug.
How does it work?
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.
More stories from Bugsy Watts and writers in Poets and other communities.
Memory breathes claiming a life of its own it breathes reminding me how little I control pulling the past forward in the most pertinent way,
By Bugsy Watts3 years ago in Poets
I am not one to speak plainly - sometimes, I repeat and ramble, or talk in circles before reaching the point - and much like the way I speak,
By Alexandria Stanwyck5 days ago in Poets
Nostalgic I am and art comes to my rescue. I cannot bring back time but I can relive moments by my paintings.
By Seema Patel4 days ago in Poets
Shenandoah Fantastic: Mystic Whispers from the Valley’s Vales is far from the first short story collection that I’ve contributed to*.
By Stephen A. Roddewiga day ago in Writers
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.