Untitled

he sits by the tree

leans his back on the bark

feels the strength in the wood

watches birds until dark

The Gray Man

Out in the alley
behind the bins
lie reams and reams
of child skins
they didn't sell
began to smell
now naked creatures
have come searching
scratching fumbling
tripping lurching
disrupting the streets
making a din
Only wanting to fit in

Creative Writing Club: Write A Story With A Twist At The End

Yoga Mom

Your Mom is a tired housewife, constantly berated by noisy children and an ungrateful husband. She never seems to be at peace until one day her anxiety eases. She spots a torn poster tacked to the local message board at Victoria's' violin lesson.

'Are you stressed?
Lacking in energy and slowly losing your mind?
Come along to Spiritual Yoga!
Every Tuesday mornings at the Leighton Center.'

It's chilly outside and Your Mom quietly shuffles into the back of the dim room. She's late. Thomas sicked up on her top just as they were leaving for the nursery not ten minutes ago. She surveys the room, ladies of all ages are twisted into pretzels.  Remembering she forgot to eat breakfast that morning she devours them all.