Your shoulder, alive,
Slightly felt through winter sleeves,
Warming everything.
How does it work?
Love the image perfect. WOW. COOL
I feel the warmth! Well done, Hannah.
What a uniquely touching haiku. Beautiful!
that's a great kind of warmth!
Loved reading this!
Ding ding! And the winning entry is... deftly writ Mrs Moore!
Awww, so sweet. Loved your poem!
Oh, this is lovely and warm in the very best way, Hannah! Good luck on the challenge!
Damn you Ms Moore with your golden touch for sublime poetry. Love this.
❤️❤️
More stories from Hannah Moore and writers in Poets and other communities.
Sometimes, I dream of a fire. From the depths of my chair, I watch the spark catch on the good, dry kindling Of picture books we read and read and will never read again.
By Hannah Moore2 months ago in Poets
I. One year, a procession of cardboard boxes, the hereditary lances I discover on my tongue. Barbed reaching for not my milk in not my refrigerator,
By Morgana7 days ago in Poets
Soft flurries of snow Merging fast on hard moist ground Melt and turn to slush
By Justiss Goode6 days ago in Poets
Four walls. That's all she had to look at, along with a dirt floor and the ceiling. The door had a small window with a little door that could be opened from the outside. But that hadn't happened much in the time she'd been in here.
By Raine Fielder2 days ago in Fiction
Comments (10)
Love the image perfect. WOW. COOL
I feel the warmth! Well done, Hannah.
What a uniquely touching haiku. Beautiful!
that's a great kind of warmth!
Loved reading this!
Ding ding! And the winning entry is... deftly writ Mrs Moore!
Awww, so sweet. Loved your poem!
Oh, this is lovely and warm in the very best way, Hannah! Good luck on the challenge!
Damn you Ms Moore with your golden touch for sublime poetry. Love this.
❤️❤️