I, Josephine Whitlock
Being of sharp mind, contemptuous wit and shoddy body
Hereby declare
This is it.
This is where I want it to be.
Endlessly facing every direction …
Reflecting on endless painted skies,
Delightfully wavering in every wisp of breeze,
Soaking in each tear drop of dew …
I want every man or woman,
Nay, every soul who tries to mow me down
With insistence that I’m nothing but a weed …
Tell them all
Where one bloom has been picked
Another will be.
This, right here, among mountains laid in childhood tales
And roads to scenic tourist highs
Shall be crested for eternity.
These crossroads of divination,
Leading not to heaven or hell,
These banks
Are where wildflowers thrive.
So scatter my ashes.
Plant me here.
And bring your children,
Your grandchildren,
Spin stories galore
But make sure they know
The stories of Old Wacky Jo.
Word Count: 149
After so, so very long not participating in What Pegman Saw I’m making an attempt this week. The location is Bridal Veil Falls, Utah.
As a side note: Is anyone else using this new editor layout and having trouble adjusting?
Kelley Farrell 
Why not tell me what you think …