yesterday
we painted dawn gray;
we drenched the clouds
in dust & mourning dew;
we wrapped the leaves
in wire, ignored the
way they flickered
and shook,
but
tomorrow morning,
we’ll slip through the bones
of traffic lights and
make our way into the
forest; we’ll sleep
on dandelions and
rise with
the ravens
-Nadia Farjami
Nadia Farjami is a poet from Southern California. Her work has been recognized by The New York Times, Cathexis Northwest Press, High Shelf Press, The Esthetic Apostle, The National Scholastic Art & Writing Awards, Prometheus Dreaming, Polyphony LIT, Youth Poet Laureate, Body Without Organs Literary Journal, Marmalade Magazine, Cagibi Literary Journal, The Athena Review, and more.