Across
long years I mourn
her loss –
yearn for
her laugh with each
downpour,
descry
her smile in each
short high.
Ryan Stone
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Across
long years I mourn
her loss –
yearn for
her laugh with each
downpour,
descry
her smile in each
short high.
Ryan Stone
Writer of your voodoo.
Where writers gather
Begin Anyway
Looking ahead, without looking back (too often)
It's named what it's named because it does what it does. And it does what it does because it's named what it's named!
Short stories online
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A force of nature who is a mother, wife, writer, teacher, coach, book fairy, and runner
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beautiful thinking
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too much coffee, too little sleep, a love of words...
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I know these will all be stories someday...
This gives a beautiful ache. A heartfelt piece.
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Thank you, Rosema. Very kind of you 🙂
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honest. 😉
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🙂
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such a loss, i’m sorry –
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Thanks for your kind words, Beth. An old scar.
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Lovely piece. A tribute to someone lost? A beautiful ache indeed, as Rosema writes.
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Thank you, Amanda. It is, indeed 🙂
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WOW…..WOW….
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Thank you…Thank you 🙂
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Most welcome, always 🙂
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I realise I’m long overdue for an hour on your site, too. You’re high on my list of priorities 🙂
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No worries, Ryan–I’m not going anywhere…that I know of. Take care 🙂
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Pain memorized on highs and lows of routines. Your words leave a melancholy feeling behind.
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Thank you, dear Moon 🙂
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Beautiful!
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She was. Thank you so much, Carisa 🙂
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