I am stone, and cold
cradled in your palm.
You
wish to warm me—
put me in a pocket.
Babe,
I am made for skipping,
sinking,
losing,
finding,
time and time again.
© 2019 Kindra M. Austin
I am stone, and cold
cradled in your palm.
You
wish to warm me—
put me in a pocket.
Babe,
I am made for skipping,
sinking,
losing,
finding,
time and time again.
© 2019 Kindra M. Austin
♠️Rip It Up & Start Again♥️
Rare Poetry and Food stories
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A storyteller with a poetic heart
presented by Kindra M. Austin
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"Something wicked this way comes"
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the easiest way to discover your next favorite blog
Blurring the lines between poetry and prose
different times, different thoughts
some may think I'm just a fool tilting at windmills, but maybe I'm not
Honest poetry
We’re just inviting you to take a timeout into the rhythmic ambiance of our breakfast, brunch and/or coffee selections.
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From a dark home, To an empty soul, A hurt heart, Makes a writer gold.
