Tag Archives: Flowers


by Dia Roth

My mother leaves behind paperwhites, gifts
for my dog in her handwriting,
books of poetry, no note. I mine them

for semi-precious stones,
admissions of remorse, scabs picked
off and left behind, but come up Continue reading

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Sweet Leilani

by Angela Nishimoto

Using the de-thorner to flake off the extraneous, plucking damaged, unsightly petals one by one. Thorns, leaves, stems, petals scattered around my feet. At this time and place, roses needed to be in bud to sell. If they were bloomed out, they were trashed; like other produce, they had a short shelf life. Continue reading

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Filed under Fiction