Erin Davis lives and writes in Spokane, Washington.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Good Friday on the Little Spokane
The deer, their coats matted and brown, will not stay. They risk the road instead. The turkey turns his back, is deliberate, spreads his feathers. The river pushes past, smug with forward motion. Its grasses press down, stay low, feign indifference. The meadow is heavy with still water, winter’s unwanted remains. She assents. She contains.