Published in


My Neighbour’s Flower Garden Is Seeded With Old Bones

Wednesday Prose Poem: the first or last line

Photo by Nicolas Ladino Silva on Unsplash

A casual glance at the snapshot reveals none of the truth—

the riotous colours paint over the grim deep cuts, the Mardi Gras of milkweed conceal the furrows seeded thickly with violence — yet — observe how the Johnny-jump-ups are the exact shade of bruises left in hidden




Purveyors of Provocative Prose & Poetry. Serving up sublime mind-elixirs & intoxicating ideas. Imbibe for creative invigoration — weekly prompts, pithy articles & prose poetry alchemy.

Recommended from Medium

Chasing Happy

God Does Not Do Amiss

The Depths Beckon Me

Hips Don’t Lie Lyrics — Shakira — Pro Lyrical

I’ve never felt so alone in my entire life!

Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store
Danielle Loewen

Danielle Loewen

she/her | reader | queer feminist | recovering academic | body lover | gamer | poet & fabulist

More from Medium

Searching For Our Extinction Event

The Wilted Sky

Abnormality in Uniformity