spent shotgun shells
no bared teeth or raised hackles
not even a whiff of threat
he returns to his wife
and I slink into an unshared bed
holding fast to things unsaid
sewing needles clasped between my lips
when I finally confess him
to a friend over sweet tea
her face forms a cold front
her unasked question chills the air
well what did you expect?
M. STONE is a bookworm, birdwatcher, and stargazer who writes poetry and fiction while living in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Her poems have appeared in San Pedro River Review, SOFTBLOW, Calamus Journal, and numerous other print and online journals. She can be reached at writermstone.wordpress.com.