Crows zig past a scold of clouds. Winds come and go in frantic bursts. Trees hasten toward the ground, then pleat the sky. All November in its gray layers, humbling our hopes. Electric light early in the day as if day never fully expands. Such brown left from last week’s frost, dull, lacking vibrance. Heartaches … Continue reading All November
by Mercedes Lawry
The paper-skin woman was begging at the corner, or was she asking? Perhaps it was as simple as hope. How many in the cars grinding past were hungry? Ruin had come by earlier wearing a party dress. She said she was giving up the ghost, but the paper-skin woman wasn’t interested in ghosts. Or the … Continue reading In Corner Pocket
by Mercedes Lawry
The cracked teacup nested in the pool of rain, gold leaves wicked on its side and across the sodden grass like so many gloves. This is the vacant lot with the tumble of shredded cardboard, the winking cans, bereft weeds. She walked across, gingerly. Noting none of the glum details, only the general sense of … Continue reading Fog Girl
by Mercedes Lawry
