Solitary
Solitary
Like the top-most leaf
In the last tree
Before the end of the world
Softly stirring
Trembling
Grasping
In the final
Last breath of wind
With a gasp of soft
Almost silent despair
Fall, twisting, drifting
To earth
Solitary
From my pen, with ink-stained fingers
- Tess
- I love words - the power of them, the sounds of them, the meanings of them. I'm not very good at spelling them. I write from a desire to delight in how words share stories and ignite ideas. I write because it is how I wrestle with myself and the world. I retreat to The Lighthouse because only in solitude will the words come whispering to me.
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