Dripping daffodils
What are daffodils? How do they look, or where do they grow? and how do they smell? This poem explores the depths and breaths of what a daffodil is to the poet.
Arrival in the city
Kiara was jolted awake from her deep slumber.
Dear Influencer
A letter to all influencers.
Pink Tourmaline
“It is a beautiful and delightful sight to behold the body of the Moon.” ― Galileo Galilei
Where I grew up
I didn’t grow up near the sea with its fishermen flinging their nets through the sun’s golden beams. I saw no boats, caught no waves or ate no bites of the fish’s flesh, its silver skin scaled off with a steel scalpel.
Pendulum
I remember how the morning sun lit up the kitchen, the angle of its rays falling on the black and white checkerboard marble floor, so it looked like Jacob’s Stairs descending from heaven.