Stories in Poets that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
You see a tree? I get the idea, my grandparents are the trunk, my parents branches, me a stick My kids the leaves I get the concept
By Sam Spinelli4 months ago in Poets
Snow swirling, in so many silvery, flakes, filling the air, through the mist - breath frozen momentarily upon the air.
By Rasma Raisters4 months ago in Poets
Quiet falls over the still lake Flames lick the edge of the shore My eyes catch the melding of light and dark My grip firms on a half-empty bottle
By Adam Wallace4 months ago in Poets
Now, I’m seeing, that you tend the soil of my being. When all I see is dirt and dust, you see beauty, not rust. You are walking with me in the garden of purpose and good tidings,
By Rowan Finley 4 months ago in Poets
His laughter was the autumn wind that tossed me around like colorful leaves Especially if we were laughing together Standing next to him was standing in an autumn forest that screams in yellow, red, and orange
By Bixi Hernandez4 months ago in Poets
There are roots and rhizomes of me, still— lain, forsaken in the arid graves and rust of Northern México— mi Bisabuela, with her wild, running spirit,
By Gina C.4 months ago in Poets
You, you, you Incredible old thing Of marvel and beauty That an entire city wants To take for granted But cannot.
By AggieSoon4 months ago in Poets
Intersect me. Split me open In the center Of the old forest Where witches Went off to die And wizards Howled through
By Silver Daux4 months ago in Poets
The universe showered her with an unexpected gift recently, Delivered in a cute little package and tied neatly with a bow,
By Colleen Millsteed 4 months ago in Poets
I cautiously open the message, half wondering, ‘It’ll be bad.’ Three short words: Tony died today Yes, you’re Tony nowadays
By Chantal Christie4 months ago in Poets
I had good reason to be annoyed, even a little angry When you decided to add winter to my list of reasons to despair You made the air an adversary and the improperly sealed windows
By D. J. Reddall4 months ago in Poets
It’s been 27 minutes since I last saw her ebony hair Or maybe it’s been centuries, who knows? Perhaps it was only yesterday when I first laid eyes on her
By Anna Torres4 months ago in Poets
