Reverie

All day this day she bends, knees pressed into mud, 

she dips her hands, cupping them like a bowl,

and pulls the water to her mouth

the rolling ocean within her

until she is small, submerged beneath sunlight,

gold ribbons wide as the sun,

and lets the waves pull her further,

their voices like children’s laughter in bustling, noisy rooms.

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Angels

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When You Were Five Years Old