Choices
I.
A man walks into a forest. Climbs an oak tree, ties a rope around a branch, then around his neck. And jumps. He chooses not to think about who finds him.
II.
A vicar lights a candle. Chooses a prayer for a boy he once gave first communion. He tells a mother her son cannot be buried here. This is consecrated ground.
III.
A policewoman rings the doorbell. A woman and two girls are at the door. The girl will remember it’s raining. The policewoman steps inside. They close the door on the world.
IV.
A woman stands over the kitchen sink. She chooses what to cook for dinner. Potatoes. Carrots. A pork chop. A police car is parked at the house across the street.
V.
There was a man with a wife and two kids. Church-going. God-fearing. He walks into a forest. Climbs a tree, and chooses not to think about who finds him.
A Cadralor poem written Ragtag Daily Prompt “turmoil” and for Linda Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday, “chews” or choose”. There’s no illustration for this piece. In this case, I hope that words do that. Imagery and poems ©Misky 2023.
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