The Tale's End

by Lynn Hardaker

I find myself alone     
on this white plain
as fragile
as bindings of paper and ink

my father was tricked 
by the red-mouthed wolves
who used his axe
against him

my sister's body lies
in the frozen casket of the river
her lips forever kissed
my brothers drifted skyward
only to lose their dream-black feathers
which fell to earth
as a shower of words

and my mother, who started it all
sits in her pelt-roofed hut
picking her teeth
with the bone
of my little finger.

Toronto born and mostly raised, Lynn Hardaker currently lives in Munich, Germany with her husband, two sons, and three cats. Ok, so she's lying about the cats. She paints and makes collages and writes, all of which make her appear busy while she looses herself in daydreams. This is her first publication. She keeps a blog where she muses about this and that.

After much humming and hawing...she's settled on the simple, crisp and tart McIntosh apple as her favourite fruit.

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