birds

Writing

Identity

By Sarah Devney

The applewood boughs were once laden with revenant spring,
Pillars of sanctuary to golden finches lost in flock,
Through throngs of feathered wings batting valiantly against turbulent affairs,
One single creature is mottled by solitude,
For it drives him insane to be so isolated,


Homegoing

By Sasha Watson

sister I am trapped, my body weighted 
by morning, when I woke
birds were calling till my heart stammered 
this time gives meaning to suspended


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