Autumn’s breath weaves chill from spine

I found a dead body in the woods.

Its scent bleeds forth from molded ground

Her skin was white, she wore a frown.

Whence fox feet trailed a buried line

Her body lay bare, lips soiled with grime.

Through brush recoiled where once bound.

Clothed in my shadow, uttered no sound.

Hangs from branches like withered bats

In teeth, they found her name at last.

Birch bark’s paper fingers linger

Arrow birthmark on her finger.

Creek stones cling to moss-made hats

And so unveiled a ‘scandalous’ past.

Chapparal’s crown reduced to tinder

A prostitute, downtown club singer.

Wildflowers stripped to a skeleton frame

She was on the news for only one day.

Whiskered petals scratch and skitter

Then was burned to skull and cinder.

Songbird’s spirit — fallen lame

Swept beneath a shallow grave.

Draped their feathered flesh, grown bitter

Left her to lie, no care for her killer.

Pond grows dark neath rings of ice

I’d sit beside her stone, at times.

Leaves grow paler, drift to snow

And watch the lanterns’ fading glow.

Milked from moon, a clean-cut slice

Shed a flower; mourner’s guise.

Swallows earth and spits the crow

First to rot and last to grow.

Then is silent, cloaked in white

Name forgottend, out of sight.

Shadow’s stomach; last light’s weep

No one listens, no one speaks.

Eyes fall prey to winter’s blight

Died in death, and lived by night.

And sink to drown; eternal sleep.

But I’ll remember: Kaitlyn Lee.