The blossoms are dead, dried up and crushed
into the dirt, into the ground from which
they came. Life’s skeleton parades
around in the wind, a storm is coming.
Thank you for reading my writing! I hope you will return in the future!
-Alina
Writer in San Francisco, CA

She claws her way out
of hell, Cerberus howling
breeze warms frigid air
Young buds stretch for blossoming
birds fluttering in the trees
The blossoms are dead, dried up and crushed
into the dirt, into the ground from which
they came. Life’s skeleton parades
around in the wind, a storm is coming.
Thank you for reading my writing! I hope you will return in the future!
-Alina