Ripples of water
Play with bare toes
While demure children
Speak softly
A sussuration
Of now lost,
Ambiguous thoughts.
Petrichor wafts
surrounding pale faces
Comforting.
Strories born
crammed into
Freshly shaped minds.
YOU ARE READING
Meandering Thoughts
PoetryMy very first book of poetry throughout which a handful of thoughts are tossed, and even crafted, onto the page. I'll update regularly. Here's hoping it's a good one.
