by Melanie Hobbs
grey houses huddle together in winding loops
scant bottlebrush trees wave feebly in the light breeze
providing no relief from the glare of the February sun
on the too-white pavement.
inside the place a dusty Christmas tree looms over the body.
male. seventies. full head of hair.
his blue checked shirt unbuttoned, no doubt by the ambos
now consoling his wife,
exposing a blood-spattered hairy chest and throat.
no wound though.
most likely some sort of aneurysm.
poison also a possibility.
Melanie Hobbs is a writer of Malaysian-Indian descent. She lives in Perth, Western Australia, with her husband, two-year-old daughter and dog, along with another baby on the way. Melanie worked as a high school English teacher for ten years and is currently a full-time parent.
Seeking words with sizzle, poetry that wraps us in burning ribbons and won't let go. Send us your best!