Flower Girl
She flits along the quiet streets
Her tattered dress a flutter
Talking to a man
that none
had ever seen before.
A suitcase rolls behind her,
Leaving us a
breadcrumb trail.
The broken zipper
brings us gifts
of socks and
scarves galore.
She turns to scream out
to the wind,
“Don’t follow me so closely!”
In her hand a
broken jar
—to jag the horrid
gale—
I watched her stop to borrow all
My front yard
gladiolus
Then she tore off barefoot down the street,
Assailant invisible to me.
I hope she liked the flowers.
Anna Phillips is an Ozarks-based writer and horror marketer with a passion for native ecology and permaculture. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in FRUIT Magazine, 25:05, Soul: Poetry, Prose and Arts, COOP Zine, and Down in the Dirt. Her debut chapbook, Ethereal, will be released summer of 2026.
