The autumn breeze blows not too gentle this evening sending dead leaves dancing across my front lawn like drunks stumbling home after last call. I stand by my door, cup of tea in hand, adoring the beauty of my sparse but beautiful garden. At first, I did not notice a strange little wind- chime moving back and forth, stuck in a place it was never meant to be. I look across to my neighbor’s house, a recent widow, in need of some TLC of her own, unable to give the needed attention to her browning grass and near dying flowers. I think of her poor flowers unable to offer her their gift of beauty in their present state. Maybe I’ll water the garden for her, maybe I’ll have my lawn guys clean up her lawn, maybe… My eyes are drawn to a small swaying object hanging high up under my gutter. I have many wind-chimes placed around my home. The placement of this one seems unfamiliar. Before I am able to take a good look, a puppy runs by yipping and barking, speaking the language only puppy lovers understand— chase me, follow me, play with me. I can’t help but smile as my neighbor and her two sons race after Prince Mini-Me. I take a few sips of my English Breakfast again, my eyes return to the stiff object being forced to wave, back and forth, by the ever gusty wind. I spit out my tea as I realize the object is not a misplaced wind-chime, but the carcass of a lizard too clever for his own good. Hoping to feast on the bugs that live under the gutter, his tiny head became caught in a crack as he tried to secure his snack. I wonder, was he able to enjoy at least one juicy bug before his demise? I continue to watch half in fascination, half in disgust as the evening breeze prompts the stiff body to move against its will, tail and legs in unison, following the orders of an invisible master who wishes to let the dead know who’s in control. AuthorArlene Antoinette is a West Indian- American writer who pens poetry, flash fiction and song lyrics. Additional poetry by Arlene may be found @ The Foxglove Journal, The Ginger Collect, The Feminine Collective and GirlSense and NonSense. Thank you for reading her work.
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