Curio Arca > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

When spring had come and the snow had melted from the pass, I’d often trek down the mountainside, Sit at my perch under an old, leprous t..

I was working towards a corner,Working on turning it,When the corner turned me.I gasped, reeled, said,“Is this real?”I fell in a heapOf tr..

It’s the same dream over and over.I’m wading against the current--I fell off a ship, I think--There’s no land in sight but there&rsq..

Once again guilt smote him; he staggered beneath All of its intangible weight. When he shuddered his breath came out like smoke. But there ..

I look down from a broken hillside,Crookedly on the claws and nubs of root and stone,Head bowed, back to the lofty summit I’ll never reach.The b..

Curio Arca Writing