A Messy Affair

by Alice Woodrome

I have never known life to be tidy. No passion, however small, will fail to leave a trace. A tiny speck of life afloat is betrayed by a ripple. The waters underneath are muddied by the flicking of a tail. A house that sees much living is often in disarray -- the evidence of life, like feathers in a nest.

Life will always be a messy affair until the bones that once were up and doing lay smooth and white and purified.