By Rebecca Emerick
cw: cadaver
She is bone now
lying in some field
who knows where;
no milk carton photos
helped her;
her blue cotton dress
faded grey and tattered;
grass grows between her toes;
wild poppies poke up
between her rib bones;
a coyote ate her liver no doubt
and probably her heart;
where her beautiful
green eyes shone with
laughter is now the entrance
to the lacy home of a
funnel web spider