Fleeting Moment
From the Dark Corners series #8
From the Dark Corners series #8
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From the Dark Corners series #4
From the Dark Corners series #2
A poem for the year that is gone.
“The Monarchs are late.”
All the conversations around the table suddenly stopped. Fifteen pairs of eyes turned, like one of those perfectly synchronized flocks of birds, staring at my great-grand-mother. Nobody had heard my Bila's voice in almost three years. Since her beloved husband had died. We all thought her mind had left with him, her shell patiently waiting for the end.