If I could fly into the branches,

tuck in my wings like the morning

dove, I would sit for hours,

see the dawn’s dappled-climb,

trace the shadows of a mid-day 

sun, rest my eyes on the horizon

as day dissipates into darkness,

and wait for the shimmering stars

in the milky-glow of a waning crescent.

—C.L. Fisher, September 2021

Unless otherwise indicated, all writings and images are the work of C.L. Fisher and may not be copied, used, or distributed without permission.

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