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.