at last no one decided And no one knocked And no one jumped up And no one opened And there stood no one And no one entered And no one said: welcome And no one answered: at last
Maggie StiefvaterThe piebald mare paws at the sand; I see her digging out of the corner of my eye and hear her grinding her teeth. That bridle's her curse, this island her prison. She still smells of rot.
Maggie StiefvaterPeppermint swirled into my nostrils, sharp as glass, then raspberry almost to sweet, like too-ripe fruit. Apple, crisp and pure. Nuts, buttery, warm, earthy
Maggie Stiefvaterthe intermittent breeze carried her scent to me again and again , singing in another language of memories from another form .
Maggie Stiefvater