by Ali P. Welker
where murky water
river meets land
beating breeds sand
& ancient pine blankets
a baby bird feasts
on regurgitated delicacy
the need to be free
Spread your wings!
Father said fall
off the cliff ledge
plummet let all
time lodge air
& heed his call
It’s okay to be scared!
Wind feathers spread
wax to drip seal
letters for lovers
an acidic last meal
the force of fiery blue
Don’t forget, darling!
Death is freedom, too.
Ali P. Welker (she/her) is a dark-red-wine-stained type of poet. As a resident wayward writer, her mind circles sociopolitical issues, grief, and the beauty of small things. Usually, you can find her wandering the library, binge-watching documentaries, or napping with her dog, Koda.