An island is born, a bit surreal.
Opaque grass blaring in the snowy haze
grand openness,
keen, jutting fin above the rippling layers,
giant dorsal, wind swept and dusty,
small plant life growing on its surface,
fragments of dust collecting, creating thin top-soil.
Once every cycle submersing into the depths
washing new stagnant life from its island.
Welcome to Authspot, the spot for creative writing.
Read some stories and poems, and be sure to subscribe to our feed!