nomadpenguin

The rain is silent, it makes no noise as it is pulled to the ground, droplets drawing into thin lines. Even as it nears the ground it does not speak ...

ii. Autumn was always his favorite season; He said that the most beautiful things are those that never last, the ones that fall to the ground and die in a ...

This is the bridge where we first met. The storm clouds above had sent their vanguard, making the pavement as slick as January ice. You apologized for my wet knees ...

I see now why they put park benches on the side of the road. It is so you can sit on a night like this, pulling your thin jacket around ...

You came to Paris to escape your life with all its knots and pits. You turned your back on the tourist traps and chose the smallest cafe overlooking the Seine ...

Inspired by a Billy Collins poem

About a friend of mine

For dogs's poetry contest