Saturday, March 29, 2008

Uphill

This sky you can walk right into.
the kind of sky you can wade in
submerge yourself in, an ocean
inverted

The fish here are adorned with black feathers

they glisten
and chuckle.
they spin around you, laughing
in a language of their own
as you flounder ineptly in their element

Not yours

this is a good place to disappear

Here you are nobody, nothing.
Some look your way, but
only the peculiar fish can see you

you
aren’t supposed to be here
at all

but
the feathered ones have believed in stranger things

Rachel Westfall
March 29, 2008




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