Scattered Bones
May 20, 2015Flash Nonfiction by Jeri Edwards
We kneel beside a perfect print of a mountain lion on the sandy bar.
We kneel beside a perfect print of a mountain lion on the sandy bar.
How strange that they’d preserve a single piece of the forest they destroyed.
'Let me get this straight,' I’d ask. 'We’re going to go outside, walk around—then come back?'
Car door handles don't appear very often in poems, or door knobs in general.
The pictures were mostly of Julie posing naked, like you’d see in a magazine.
Dive into the dream and the unconscious ocean. Steal without guilt.
Because Mother Nature wasn't clever enough