deepundergroundpoetry.com
Smoke on Sunday
It’s all ceremone.
I smooth the table linens and pluck the fallen leaf of my maidenhair fern from the windows sill.
The mountainous view to the west is the clouded over with promises of a wet afternoon.
Maybe they will all leave early in effort to beat out the storm, I think hopefully.
It’s just about time to put the rolls in.
I smooth the table linens and pluck the fallen leaf of my maidenhair fern from the windows sill.
The mountainous view to the west is the clouded over with promises of a wet afternoon.
Maybe they will all leave early in effort to beat out the storm, I think hopefully.
It’s just about time to put the rolls in.
Published 15th May 2020
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15th May 2020 6:02am
15th May 2020 4:18pm
This a compact story that reads so fluidly
It makes me think of a sandwich to that is devoured as a snack to stave off the hunger for a while
It makes me think of looking at a small package and it is surprising to find that what's inside it is very valuable
With this start the only way to go is Up!!! Up!!! And away!!!
It makes me think of a sandwich to that is devoured as a snack to stave off the hunger for a while
It makes me think of looking at a small package and it is surprising to find that what's inside it is very valuable
With this start the only way to go is Up!!! Up!!! And away!!!
13th Jun 2020 6:27pm
snap shots in time..
caring, closeness, maturity
nice freestyle, word to visual translation on point
nice flow..
real
respect my poetic sister
caring, closeness, maturity
nice freestyle, word to visual translation on point
nice flow..
real
respect my poetic sister
