Gail Oare – USA (PJ22)


The car was parked the bottom of my driveway, its emergency blinkers on. From the panorama of phlox from the woods across the road showed through the windshield I could see that no one was sitting in the driver’s seat. Then I saw him sprinting up the road toward the car. A young man in faded jeans, a bright orange road worker’s shirt, and bandana. The tattoo wound down his arm and terminated at the hand that held a large cluster of pink phlox. He jumped into the car, popped the gear and squealed the tires out onto the road and around the bend.

stopping by the woods
on a rosy evening
with and without frost