Art by Liza Corbett
…she thrusts thorns-
the vulnerable rose-
it’s the only choice
to bullet the foreign
horses
to make them stop
on the dismal spot
of slippery edge.
new path
will be unlocked
on the other side
of the hill land.
follow,
roll
magic ball,
listen for
a signal,
enroll.
Plenty of meanderings
on the road…
by Brenda Warren
Read more at: Sunday Whirl, Flash Fiction 55
