Adult Education *

North light fills a row of windows high above the wooden platform where I’m told to stand. Easels scrape into place like a flower blooming around me. I hear easy chatter, lean into the paint-smeared stool, struggle to unwrap this borrowed robe.

*This piece placed third with the crowd, and was also Editor's Pick (Thank you Christine!)

Egress

Behind closed eyes, anything is possible. Your smile, your body long against mine.  When I open them, you’re never the yellow butterfly that poses on my glass of wine the first fine spring day. Even so, I just can’t help but peek.

 Why does the caged bird sing? asks   My answer # 4 :)