Monday, November 08, 2010

Wind swept words




The sun disappears in the north and we are lost in the winter of our silence.
Of all the return guests we welcome the snow;
It maintains heated discussions – the passion for companionship.

But there are no people here.
This space is unpeopled.
There are only vague emotions, … and the fur coat of the sun.
Memory is a drifter.

The White Gloves

You can find the book at  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/524218 The story is taking place in a magic forest. Little Red Ridi...