Posts
Autumn leaves fly
in the wind, blow
across the land, crumble
under foot, and color
soil in shades alive.
Pages flutter,
as books are read,
folio all, tapestry
of words, sprinkle
silently across sight.
People wisp away
from our life, littering
memory with faint
remnants, crumbling heart,
and stalling soul.
© 2009 Lisa G. Beaudoin
Shedding Light on Some Popular Publishing Myths
-
There are many hot takes on social media about how to write a book, what
traditional publishers like, and what you need to do to make your novel a
bestse...
16 hours ago
1 comment:
I love this poem! Wow. Especially the last stanza.
Post a Comment