Size Seven
written by: Jaya Avendel
@AvendelJaya
It is an insurmountable feeling
To be left alone
At the edge of Devonshire with the
Lambs white against the green hills and
The velvet of her slippers still prints in the grass.
Her ring is in the box
She refused to take
I do not know
If my mother’s ring
Will fit her hand.
JULY 2021 AUTHOR OF THE MONTH at Spillwords.com
Jaya Avendel is a writer living in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia, where she dips her pen into the inkwell of fantasy and prose, dabbling with the stories in the forest around her. She writes at Nin Chronicles.
Latest posts by Jaya Avendel (see all)
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