Minds of Clay

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,


Shaking the sand

crumbled in our hands.

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