Clouds softly flow
across skies of cerulean
a voice in the distance calling,
and I swear I can make out
words, then I realize
it’s a crow talking.
Thank you for reading!
-Alina
Writer in San Francisco, CA

She claws her way out
of hell, Cerberus howling
breeze warms frigid air
Young buds stretch for blossoming
birds fluttering in the trees
Clouds softly flow
across skies of cerulean
a voice in the distance calling,
and I swear I can make out
words, then I realize
it’s a crow talking.
Thank you for reading!
-Alina