Hour Five: A Mystery Poem: Utilizing both text and photograph prompts.

She, almost, wished for springtime again.

So, she bought flowers and planted them, reminding her of the season.

Now that the boughs are bare, they starkly remind of stripping bare.

The stripping bare as the police strip bare her wooden door with their knocking, knocking as she tries to escape. Tries to escape within the bare trees echoing the baring of her soul. She knows they saw her.

The flowers dormant now will bloom her naivete as they were evident witnesses to what she did.

The police now have their witnesses.

Nature bared her as they grew evidence, as squirrels found the evidence, as fake flowers add to the evidence. There is nowhere to hide.

Just ask the birds that remained to chirp and follow her, not south, but her and reveal through their conversations about what she buried in the Spring. DMW