Pebbles cool and round
litter the stream, you pick
a few up, the size of berries,
they rest in your palm.
The cold weighing heavy in your hand.
Thank you for reading!
-Alina
Writer in San Francisco, CA

Slid into heaven
Thanks to raven wings and bones
It is a dark room
Scattering of beads, thunder
I wake in the morn
poem written in Tanka form