By Emma Shoemaker, Clarion Staff
We grasp for golden rays,
peering through criss-crossed cages,
yearning to see as a Dragonfly:
In this dry desert-
One morning, you
told me to listen to the air.
Guard your perspective.
I tumbled through.
One morning, silver
Birds will glisten,
our voices breaking,
Crystal
Shaking the sand
crumbled in our hands.
