Photo by Achudh Krishna on Unsplash
Gloves on the heater,
old radiator sighing,
the house fills with warmth.
About the Creator
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More stories from Luna Jordan and writers in Poets and other communities.
When the Shelter Closes
Across the street from my house, a man slept under a tree, his dog by his side. My first, naive thought: he must be traveling through. But he kept coming back, often sleeping there during the day. Then it hit me—that person might not have a home.
By Bride of Sounda day ago in Humans
Comments (4)
Beautiful- it made me sigh reading it. Comfort and warmth.
Another comforting and cozy poem. Good job.
I could feel the warmth hehehehe. Loved this!
Amen warm again 🌺🦋🌺 luv this haiku