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A draft slips under the door on the coldest night of the year, when even butter spreads hard though it sat out all day. Waiting for you to return takes patience beyond what I can offer. Bring me something insignificant to talk about, tonight might be all there is (this now). The chance to clap if you believe, to say thank you is the least we can do. (What it takes) Breath this rare air, hold out for a lake, a mountain, where wide leaves rustle up stories the wind pulls from willing limbs. |
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Consider how by Shann Palmer
Filed under Shann Palmer
52|250 A Year of Flash 
wow. i loved this.
Lovely and sad.
Happy for the chance to applaud this. Lovely.
Just gorgeous, and haunted me simultaneously. Wow.
Gorgeous and poignant. love the line breaks, just brilliant. Peace…
Shann, this is beautiful. The line breaks are perfect. And above all, I love so many lines and phrases: clap if you believe; “Waiting for you to return takes patience beyond what I can offer;” and the entire last line about holding out for something bigger than ourselves: a lake, a mountain. And finally this: “where wide leaves rustle up stories the wind pulls from willing limbs.” What a gorgeous image! And coincidence: I tool love to think of leaves as the stories of a season! I’m greatly endeared to this, Shann. Thank you!
This took my breath away. Stunningly beautiful.
Seems effortlessly written.
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