Literary Yard

Search for meaning

By: Mari Salarda


The water has its own mind
Treacherous while calm

My feet are dirtied
black from the soil where green
stalks grow and flourish

It gives light and warmth
Sometimes blue, red, or orange
A tool, a weapon

There is no such thing
as life without frigid air—
And I am grasping.


Mari Salarda is a canine admirer that touches every dog she passes. She dances her way through life with hip-hop and Filipino cultural tinikling. Her allergy to peanuts is deadly and dreams to be a peanut-slayer warrior.


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