Nesting
By adulthood, I was let loose—
a plumed thing, ready to wander
the world or anywhere I’d not known.
Fight or flight or tired of fighting,
I flew not far but away. Then, rumors:
whispered into the air like birds,
attempting to mimic my journey.
Their path unknown, I waited until
they found ears in which to nest.

Media Attributions
- Art by Abigail Workman