she hangs her roses
deep
in the middle of
the woods

a thick tree
with a high
branch,
it groans under
the weight

she starts from
the top
and lets them
swing down, low
petals
graze the
mossy earth

(her roses sway
where her children
can’t see
from the bottom
of the creek
where she left them
to play)

and before they
drop
and before they
sway
her roses from the
branch
begin to weep, and
the children wail
from the bottom
of the deep
but their voices
won’t be
heard
for they no longer
speak

and in the middle
of the woods
where her roses
died,
the children of
the creek
will always cry
while the hunters
of the woods
keep their watchful
eyes,
though none will
ever understand
why
she hung her
roses in the middle of
the woods


~ A. L. Stippich