after ‘Husk’ by Lannie Stabile
Winding my way through limbs, I scream
and scare the crow that thinks
he owns these little deaths.
But I was here first, knew this place
as the bodies were picked
clean. At dusk, I’d mime
the stalks, stand quiet in their crowd
and learn the force of shadow.
Before I knew this was a cemetery
I was tricked into wanting
a shell of my own. Where else was there
to hide? This what he says
as he plants himself
Madeleine Corley is a writer by internal monologue. Her work has been featured in FOLIO, Moist, HAD, Olney Magazine, among others. She currently serves as a Managing Editor at Barren Magazine. You can find her at her website wrotemadeleine.com or on Twitter @madelinksi. One day, she’d like to own a Mystery Machine.