Summer heat ripens apples, Autumn breeze turns them to cider. Sips of warm, spiced cider Wanders into the world I don’t know— I’m sure I’ll get lost, Maybe even scared. Who’s there— Aliens? Ghosts? A place to lose myself In the river of cider, Where bubbles carry answers.
Category: Seasons and Nature
Penguins
They line up, Patiently waiting, inching For their turn To jump off the iceberg Into the churning water.
Answers
Poem by Yenna Yi Image by ChatGPT
Ring of Fire 