Ice shifts in the glass;
it clinks against the sides, then
settles once again.
I create stories and poems, and am known for deleting them if I start finding them cringey.
Goodreads
Amazon
How does it work?
Solid into liquid ice melts. Love the sound that ice makes in the glass. Good job.
Gotta agree with Harper. Ice is such a scary word now. Loved your poem!
Like everyone else in the US, I now bristle when I see the word “ice.” I am so thankful that this is the kind I like, in the place I like it—a glass.💖
More stories from Luna Jordan and writers in Poets and other communities.
Wind lifts a receipt. It slides on the bare sidewalk, then stops at the curb.
By Luna Jordanabout a month ago in Poets
sit in the doorway peach trees foretelling their bloom last year’s jam on toast * I wait for the peach trees to bloom. The buds are swelled and fuzzy, a soft pale green.
By Natalie Wilkinson5 days ago in Poets
She’s yet to say those famous lines But shows her heart in woven signs Refilling mugs and warming hands A touch that says what words can’t span
By Abi Rose Travis5 days ago in Poets
Two and a half centuries ago, The muck of the Iwandapowa swamp parted. A great eye socket emerged, and blinked the cake of the terrain away.
By Noah Husband7 days ago in Fiction
Comments (3)
Solid into liquid ice melts. Love the sound that ice makes in the glass. Good job.
Gotta agree with Harper. Ice is such a scary word now. Loved your poem!
Like everyone else in the US, I now bristle when I see the word “ice.” I am so thankful that this is the kind I like, in the place I like it—a glass.💖