Saturday, March 29, 2008


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

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

aren’t supposed to be here
at all

the feathered ones have believed in stranger things

Rachel Westfall
March 29, 2008

No comments: