Alarm clocks, eagle plumes,
a moth’s unblinking eye
hover from left to right,
in the shrinking room
where the children huddle
nibbling orange crusts
from diesel-soaked butterfly wings.
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Narrative is a hundred percent reader-supported. If you love what you’re reading, please make a one-time or monthly tax-deductible donation. Your gift of $60 or more includes a 1-year Backstage Pass with special features and exclusive previews.
