Eloise.
Drawn to rivers, long walks, and late summer light.
I write poetry about the things that don't always have names yet.
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Stories by JustEloise
The Ladybird: Poems of Small Merci...
A ladybird lands for a moment.
A candle flickers in a quiet church.
An ordinary afternoon becomes somethi...
Break Me Here
Break Me Here: poems for broken souls
by Eloise
For the tired.
For the numb.
For the ones who feel everything...
Where the River Runs Quiet
When a town begins to fracture without warning, the ground beneath the ordinary starts to thin. Told through...