Reid@YWP

When I turned 17, it was synonymous with the beginning of the end. 

It felt like landing in the jaws of a 

hungry, 

hungry wolf 

that would maul me to pieces. 

I dream to drink the sky,

it would taste so sweet,

a sea of blue and stars

and everything in between. 

If we are all

just droplets,

The seed will grow for years and years.

It will grow strong and tall, 

with limbs so thick and leaves so green.

My tree will have it all.

In summer we may have a picnic in its shade, 

Set on a lone countryside, the sun shines brightly.

A little toddler, in too-big garden gloves and dirtied overalls holds out a sapling. She kneels down and sets the sapling down …

Two years later

Amelia taught us to soar.

Marie taught us to think.

Sally taught us to fly.

Eleanor taught us to speak up.

Jane taught us to write.

Rosa taught us to stand up.

Anne taught us not to forget our history.

I woke up in the dark, but I was dreaming. Memories of salt and scales. Turbulent clouds and cloying air that choked me. I searched for the ocean rhythm and found only a syncopated beat interrupted by static.