Plum: an Equinox Story She calls herself Plum and she lives on a patch of dirt at the edge of a winding road near the river levee. She lives amid chipped quartz and granite, broken clam shells, and spikey dandelion leaves. She is never the first to bloom in late February; that honor goes to … Continue reading Plum: an Equinox Story
Written with my Thursday night group with the prompts: I hope I’m to in your way; I’m not dead, only you; frightened by my body; I sued to pretend it was fun; haunted by whispers; she played sax; didn’t want to go there; let’s hear it for cousin Karen; a gap between her two front … Continue reading Only You
Elusive feet stretching away from the rest of my body you are a mysterious duo. Earthbound like two turtles you spread your toes wide and flat refusing to conform to narrow confines of stylish pumps and spiked heels. You are stubborn rebels; I cannot trust you. Perched on the edge of a cliff … Continue reading My Elusive Feet
