Tiny piping calls,
Love notes under Pink Moon’s light.
Spring peeper night - breep!
About the Creator
Meredith Harmon
Mix equal parts anthropologist, biologist, geologist, and artisan, stir and heat in the heart of Pennsylvania Dutch country, sprinkle with a heaping pile of odd life experiences. Half-baked.
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More stories from Meredith Harmon and writers in Poets and other communities.
Thirty (one) and Neither Flirty nor Thriving.
I'm thirty-one and orbiting the same few mistakes like they're landmarks. London is already awake before I am (or before I've slept) - sirens somewhere far enough to ignore, buses sighing at stops, people moving with purpose I can't quite borrow. I lie there for a bit, tasting last night at the back of my throat, trying to remember if I meant to drink that much or if it just...happened again.
By Stacey Vella6 days ago in Psyche
Comments (3)
I love them. They haven’t reached the deafening crescendo yet.
Great one for Pink Moon day, thank you
Haha - wish I had been walking with you.