Poets logo

The Quiet Season.

For "The Harvest Of Memory" Challenge.

By TestPublished 4 months ago 1 min read

The years have their own hunger.
They take what they please and return it changed.
I learned to keep a small fire under the frost,
to let the smoke rise unseen.

Sometimes the wind bends a certain way
and I think of you, half-remembered,
as though the past were calling itself home.

There will be a morning
when the air feels too still to trust.
Something will open in you then
and close in me.

Free Verse

About the Creator

Test

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments (6)

Test is not accepting comments at the moment
Want to show your support? Become a subscriber or send them a one-off tip.

Find us on social media

Miscellaneous links

  • Explore
  • Contact
  • Privacy Policy
  • Terms of Use
  • Support

© 2026 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.