To Impatience

1 Minute Read Time

A woman sitting on a lone bench in a large, white room, looking around expectantly
Photo by Guilherme Stecanella on Unsplash
I am impatient
for the sun to rise, for it
to set, for the moon
to put on its white mask, for
the crow to start
its daily lessons on love—
how to slow it, how
to hide in its switchbacks. Why
can we love, then undo it?

Read more from Issue 18.2.

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