by Megan Brown
Do you think,
at this altitude / we leave
footprints on the clouds? / or like feet
in the ocean are they swept / away in wind-tide.
Wind tied up in our hair / pressing every direction but home
it erases the traces of years / left behind, so high
we are swimmers / drowning an act of faith
when the air leaves / us
light-headed. Continue reading
Hawaii Pacific Review 