Felt that? He said,
September. My reply.
He continues to utter like the songs played over and over as midnight hits. The lively jazz, the colorful lights, and the children, excited with the feel of the season. But as I freely imagine the spirit this season holds, and us that is between it, something mentioned September. I felt that through my skin as if it was winter.
September I felt, you, us—cold.
YOU ARE READING
Galaxies of Feelings
PoetryWriting is a form of expression of feelings bearing your mind's creative and imaginative thinking and your heart's desire to showcase your art and share the wonders of every letter spoken. Poetry is a type that does the readers an imaginative feeli...
