says, dipping her finger into
a tiny lava flow of cream
cheese icing, delivering it to her
lips with no attempt at daintiness.
Outside, the water runs in a silver
stream to the edge of the grass.
A stack of weeds, roots clutching
remnants of soil, lay wilting
next to a cracked, tangerine-vinyl
knee cushion.
In the redwood tree, a crow
cackles in delight.
(c) 2013, by Hannah Six
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