Unaware of living she simply lives and lusting only for fragrance and the vagrancy of desire, arches her back.
We love to write flash poetry — sometimes called micropoems — because they carry the rawness of a hungry bee on a blurry thistle, a brief breeze on a humid morning. When you write one it sharpens the moment and when you read it later it takes you back. You can share it like a photo on your phone and maybe next time your friends will join us in a wet meadow.
*Photos by Kristin Zahra, poem by Jack Phillips.