Showing posts with label Flash 55. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Flash 55. Show all posts

Look Alike

The tree would only speak when the sun was at just the right angle to see the face woven into its gnarled bark. Mira waited until she saw into its eyes clearly to ask, “Why can I ask questions only now?”


“It’s when the light makes you look most like a tree,” the oak said.


This poem was created as part of the Flash 55 for Verse Escape.

Precious Gem

She spread them out in front of him so he could see. One by one, she explained each’s story.

“This last,” she said, holding a stone so red it was almost black, “appeared when I made a home for the darkness.” She blinked, looking away from him.

“Beautiful,” he responded, placing his hand over hers.


This bit of flash fiction was created for Verse Escape's Friday 55