Celeste is a hoarder,
has been since she was
a child. A collector of
life she likes to say.
She knows the language of
squirrels. The panic of
losing her stash. Her attic
like the sanctuary of an old
oak tree. Buried inside;
dried roses, movie stubs,
condolence cards, letters
she never mailed, and many
other reminders of love.
Death. Everything in-between.
But what happens when Winter
never ends. When there aren't
enough acorns to sate the ache
in her belly. The insatiable
hunger of time. Gnawing on limbs
of bone to reach the marrow
where sustenance thrives.
* Published in Leaf Garden Press, Nov 09
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