top of page

Heliotrope

  • Erin Hart
  • Oct 24, 2023
  • 1 min read

Sunlight collapses

upon the floorboards

of ash and echo

held together

by footprints

from

the morning after


a harvest moon

spiraling

through half-lidded

eyes


basked in the white noise

of a shriek


the bristle

of fallen snow.


Recent Posts

See All
To Tell You The Truth...

You can believe their lies—if you want to.  And you do; you want  to believe their lies.  So you believe them. You swallow the...

 
 
 
Everyday’s Story

The rising sun, the approaching noon. The clouding sky, many awakening soon. Some go to school, some go to work. Some stay at home,...

 
 
 
It Lingers: A Poem

What if a tree falls in the forest and no one hears it? What if the universe cracks and no one feels it? What if I’m the only one who can...

 
 
 

Comments


Commenting on this post isn't available anymore. Contact the site owner for more info.
bottom of page