I still hear the echoes of your footsteps across the wooden floor,
the shoes you'd drop at the front step,
the studio we danced
hand in hand
I thought it would never end,
Is midnight still our time?
do you still dance across the moonlight night?
I hear the echoes of the piano keys
that I'm scared to touch,
your cologne still lingers across the hall,
and for a moment I felt you,
It's as if our house is half breathing,
struggling to feel whole
half alive,
I'm just left with echoes
and fragmented memories
that once belonged to you.
About the Creator
Hope Lynn
I read to escape I write to return
What if no birth happens?
To remember that our collective human experience is woven into the fabric of a vast and intricate tapestry. Reflecting on the universal phenomenon of birthdays, we find ourselves confronted with the humbling reality of our existence. Despite the individual significance we attach to our special day, the sheer volume of births occurring globally serves as a reminder of our shared humanity. On any given day, hundreds of thousands of babies enter the world, each one adding to the tapestry of human history.
By Angel Ann Saju2 days ago in Poets
How the Harvest Mouse Came to Suisun Bay
A long, long time ago there was a family of harvest mice. Mice are common, but these were unique – born to those who had lived in the salty, marshy bay for many generations, these mice ate and drank from the sea as well as the land and rivers. For generations, there were only the southern families, scattered along the marshes of Corte Madera and in the San Francisco Bay (U.S. Fish & Wildlife, 2013). One family, however, would undergo strife and conflict before reaching a whole new world. What became of them after is another tale entirely – but this is how their story begins.
By Taylor Inman6 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.