Flower
Another banishment
of-the-eldest-son story, he says
he was the coal burning
his family’s hatred,
the son who wouldn't stay
for his mother's madness.
He walked with the mute girl
out of the locked ward
one summer afternoon into a field
where she looked
in slow motion, pointed to the hills
and sun, bent
down to finger one blade of grass,
then another. She picked
a daisy.
Flower, she said.
Then
he took her back
locked her in.
Credit
Copyright © 2017 Susan Landgraf. Originally appeared in Kestrel, Spring 2017. Reprinted with permission of the author.
Date Published
01/01/2017