Watersong rises
Sliding from rocky harp strings
Shimmering in air.
About the Creator
Natalie Wilkinson
Writing. Woven and Printed Textile Design. Architectural Drafting. Learning Japanese. Gardening. Not necessarily in that order.
IG: @maisonette _textiles
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More stories from Natalie Wilkinson and writers in Poets and other communities.
Our Song
Evening has given way to night. Gently, I settle next to you on the comfortable, old love seat and reach for your hand. You snatch it away, again. It cuts me to the quick, but I hide the pain, understanding that the reaction is but part of your demented state. Since the accident, your presence here in our cozy home has been clouded by a haze I can't see. Nevertheless, I feel the frigidity of your expressions and it serves as an excruciating reminder of the immeasurable distance between us.
By Dana Crandell6 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
I felt like hear the waterfall. Beautiful. Hearted and subscribed ❤️