Cold air
brushes through
your hair. A scent
lifted into the air
as the wind
gathers your
thoughts
and whisks
them away.
Thank you for reading my work! I hope you will return in the future!
-Alina
Writer in San Francisco, CA

Slid into heaven
Thanks to raven wings and bones
It is a dark room
Scattering of beads, thunder
I wake in the morn
poem written in Tanka form
Cold air
brushes through
your hair. A scent
lifted into the air
as the wind
gathers your
thoughts
and whisks
them away.
Thank you for reading my work! I hope you will return in the future!
-Alina