By: Georgia Sutherland
I Should’ve Learned the Breaststroke
If life is a pool, I’ve plunged to my
Death, watching Time watching me
watching Time as my arms flail
above ripples, my cries drown
in laughter, some gleefully float
above bold white clouds, the sun blushes
staring six feet deep where Death claims
my lips, all of me burns from
a kiss that tries to steal my heart.
How Can You Say Life’s Fair When
money talks, veiled by Cuban fogs;
gossips about last season’s wear
thrown like waste to thrift shops,
to be scavenged by the have-nots.
Beyond the Fall
Among the rusted blades
a few, still green, stay sharp,
alert to the stealthy steps
of a fiercely white foe.