The Butcher’s Granddaughter
The garden was a tank whose glass case held the sun hostage and rays of orange-gold bled and bled for hours. We sat there on the bench in the second backyard, where the grass was soaked…
The clover green gate slams. I hear shuffling of feet on the ground. The wheels of dedi’s bike turning with a rusty chain around them. He is home from the butcher shop. The black leather case is filled with, shhhhhh…… I want to tell you a secret.
Poems
“Little Insect,” “Pay for It,” and “Opposite of Amor Fati,” The Red Fern Review, Issue 4 - Summer 2022
“Leave of Absence,” “I love your soul after your death,” and “Welcome to the House of Yes”, WordCity Literary Journal, September 2022 Issue