I will wait, said wood, and it did.
Ten years, a hundred, a thousand, a million—
It did not matter. Time was not its measure,
Not its keeper, nor its master.
Wood was trees in those first days.
And when wood sang, it was leaves,
|2012||St. Joske's||Deborah Paredez|
|2017||Meeting Place||May Yang|
|2017||Detox Psalm||William Brewer|
|2017||Barbie Chang Loves Evites||Victoria Chang|
|2017||little prayer||Danez Smith|
|2017||On Being Told Prayer Is a Crutch||Marcus Wicker|
|2017||Mapping Home||May Yang|
|2017||On Emotion||Jennifer Chang|
|2017||[everyone asks for the you they remember]|