Behind broken windows
You can slip
In the misty forest
Gripping faces
Reflect
In a puddle
The naked hawks
Sad song
Blue silver marbled stars
Bare feet broiled in the flame
Rippled smoke around the empty bank
Watery, water spiders,
Buzz the evening song
I won’t know.
But the birds will.
The orange and black balloon man
Dodges the breathing creature
Whiskers appear on strawberries and acorns.
Crackling grass laughter kills the witch doctor.
Two feet high inside eggshells I listen
Pea pods and peach seeds huddle for comfort
Once there were clenched hands that thankfully let go.
By Elizabeth Sabine
Tripp Middle School
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