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Grey Sparrow Journal

Issue 30, July 31, 2017
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Balcony Photo




It was a side view of the beach,

with a lush-gardened golf course below

and palm trees swaying to the west.

 

A thin stretch of sand jutted out

into the ocean, forming a slight curl

at the tip. She looked out, into

 

the ripple of clouds from the 15th floor

balcony of the flesh-colored hotel.

Blonde ribbons wildly wrapping

 

in the wind with a soft smile on her face.

It's the only picture with the balcony.

Dad never told me why

 

they had to move to the first floor when

they vacationed there. The only photo

she took—with her hair down.


                                        -Lisa M. Cronkhite

 



blue flame



 

i wasn’t gonna tell her, i swear

but she knew she had it all along

exit signs are just a tease

they should read, ‘enter at your own risk’

and if the door was closed

the church bells would still ring

maybe if the windows were round

she would be able to puke out some words

i took a seat on the cold hardwood floor

to count how many times the ceiling fan clicked

it didn’t matter the water was boiling over

the scorched scent came from her skin

she always did like the blue flames

coming from the stove-saying--

nothing is more beautiful.

 

                                        -Lisa M. Cronkhite