Winter 2021 | Occasus | Issue 11.1

Ribcage to Flowerpot: 

“slow down,” my mother called
it was a warning like thunder after lightning
i was already tumbling magnificently
through the tall grass
down towards the stream   
 
fingers of moss and earth debated
whether they should hand me back
then the echo of my laugh
off hills that hunched like shoulders
mom had said something obvious like 
“it wouldn’t have been so funny had you broken a bone”  
 
“you move too slow,” i whined 
as my younger brother arrived 
his tears sucked out like breath in a riptide
just another hiccup in the digestive churn 
of the stream turning rock to sand  
 
his face cast in shadow 
the trees above us changing colour
whispering, “goodbye, it’s time for us to leave” 
the apple he ate, falling to the ground
filled with mildew 
“this looks like a place out of a fairy tale,” he observed 
 
“if it’s like a fairy tale, what’s there to be afraid of?” i questioned
“at school, i found a book of the real fairy tales 
and in those ones
            
everyone dies 
and
it’s sad”  
 
our mother’s cheeks pulled back
her smile soft like dandelions swaying in the breeze
but when we reached out to grab her 
she scattered 
pollen which would settle elsewhere 
out of reach 
 
“that’s not true”
“it is too,” he demanded 
and soon our bodies sank into the dirt
bones scattered in the stream like shells
ribcage to flowerpot
human to fertilizer

Jenifer Adamou is in her 4th year of undergraduate studies at the University of Western Ontario, pursuing an English Literature major with a double minor in creative writing and history. Her main areas of study include the romantic poets and the existentialist movement in literature. Jenifer plans to continue her education at the University of Toronto, earning a Master of Fine Arts, and one day hopes to write and publish her own novel.