We walked down the paved pathway. Dog and girl. Her red leash jingled. It was definitely not a gorge or even a forest, it was barely even a park. The path circled the perimeter of the tiny field and swing sets. We stopped midway and entered the secluded dirt path. It wasn’t a hiking trail, … More It was Our Spot
She had tangerine hair. Thick and tangled like unkempt brush. Every spring after the snow had melted, we hurled ourselves into the backwoods and like wild boars we charged. Twigs snapped and cracked scratching our skin. Our legs and feet were like thin twigs dipped in mud. She’d holler at me, “Keep up young one!” … More My Tangerine Girl
This is a simple poem filled with surrealism , murder, and a horrifying discovery. A woman catches her husband in the middle of a horrendous act.