I’m told the wind is the keeper of memories But I don’t even think it knows When I started bleeding
A young man stands on the shore Where clockwork waves Only move with the death of butterflies
Sand swims over his feet He grabs a handful of the Loose ground and lets it
Slip into the water He’s a February child, like me I can tell from his voice
It falls like heart-shaped snow I pick up the sand It brings me back to Cub Scouts
“Don’t worry. We’ll catch you” I lean back like a baby eagle learning to fly Gravity does its only routine Two boys back away from me My body meets the tile floor
Sand slides out of my grasp My fingers are frost, born of ice The shore shows itself again
Cristian Dunn is a senior majoring in Creative and Professional Writing and minoring in English at Cumberland University. He recently finished writing a poetry chapbook titled Sandfallen Saints. When Cristian is not spending his time writing, he enjoys listening to songs from musicals.