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My Skin, My Sanity
by Kat Duff
When I turned fifty, the only scar on my body was the thin trace of an incision on my right thumb where a doctor removed a sliver when I was nine
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Blood Tree
by Margo Roby
The aborigines call it
the mari, or blood tree,
for the gaping wounds
that bleed a scarlet resin
which with age
(like blood crusting on a cut)
blackens.
 Margo Roby is a teacher of English Literature at Jakarta International School, and has lived in Indonesia for fifteen years. Her writing credits include poetry published in WORM, Pebble Lake Review, Lunarosity, Long Story Short, and Applecart Magazine. |
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