InThe Howling OwlbyJohn E Marks·Aug 27, 2025Season of mistsThou watchest the last oozings hours by hours — John Keats, ‘To Autumn’A response icon2A response icon2
InThe Scarlett LetterbyCoco Densmore·Nov 25, 2023I’ve lost nothing. I never had anything to lose.February 24, 2018A response icon1A response icon1
Charchit Upreti·Jul 3, 2022BereftShe and the one behind the mirror Look at the dull — devoid of zest. They both realise this blur is clear With rheumy eyes, they watch…A response icon1A response icon1
InPoets UnlimitedbyAnant Pillai·Dec 1, 2016BereftThe mess that she left, in her trail, I’m bereft, of the scintillating soul, that devoured me whole, like her lips did mine, she tasted of…
