Winter-struck, the bird is mostly dead, But so am I— Buried under earth with my frostbitten dreams Of free blue airs shriveled deep inside me Like so many withered summer clovers. A mole's hole fits my little tiny hopes perfectly (No breath of sun shall ever reach me here). But if I can spark the swallow's meager warmth, perhaps My shade-bound heart can share something of its wings When I set its feathered fleetness wild come spring.
Sarah Page graduated from Southern Connecticut State University with an M.S. and certification in Secondary English in 2013. She is a 2013 recipient of Dialogue's New Voices award for poetry. Her poems have been published in journals including Connecticut River Review, Inscape, Fresh Ink, Star*Line, Otto, Apeiron Review, NonBinary Review, Noctua Review, Glint Literary Journal and included in the anthology Fire in the Pasture. She is the Co-Editor of Young Ravens Literary Review.