Bilingual Blog about poetry, short stories and some random pondering about life, culture and love as I understand it.
Friday, January 18, 2019
The Hunter
His eyes glow in the dark. Big, yellowish expressive and curious. One cannot see his beauty in the middle of the night. His gray fur keeps him warm and safe from the cold. He hides in the shadows of the winter night, searching for the perfect victim. Once he find it the expert hunter will then strike and kill.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Breaking Water
Motherhood is like that winter storm When everything comes to a halt And no one knows what to expect And things are done, when they are don...
-
Today I stop by this little park in my son old school. Long time ago, in this same place, I asked him and his classmates what did they wan...
-
I am done with the drama people that run around the world pretending to be who they are not... I am done with the emotional needy... eve...
-
She was a " social butterfly" They say... Her days went by Flying from flower to flower Tasting the nectar of life While adorning...
No comments:
Post a Comment