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.

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