Previously appeared in Querencia Press 

the earth baked that summer,
crusting resentfully
under a merciless sky.
warily, we circled the schoolyard,
cresting childhood’s threshold
on makeshift wings
and hoping they would somehow
hold our weight
beneath the insatiable heat.

the thrum of fledgling flight
was a raven’s cry of blood-rushed sounds,
tearing tender flesh in the hearing.
how else to survive
but by softly fading,
an incremental disappearance.
how else to escape a testing of wings
held together with nothing but wax
and desperate longing.

Karen Baumgart lives in Australia and adores beautiful quotes, pink things, cats, and chai tea. She loves working in human services policy, especially when it enables marginalised people to have a voice. Karen used to be an English teacher, and is quite certain that writing is, indeed, the best therapy. Find Karen on Instagram at @miss.cake.girl and Twitter / X at @cake_girl__.