I, (as I am Not).
Oh, to be a bird, unburdened and free!
To live in the skies, to perch on a tree.
To hide in the branches, nestled under a sea
Of thorns and thistles, quiet and leaves.
The smoke is rising fast, the wind starts to whistle,
Birds, dumb things, can't see behind thistles.
So, when fire starts to burn, they won't move an inch.
It warms in their bosom; poor hearts start to itch.
Oh, to be like that bird, unburdened and free!
But that bird isn't, wouldn't, could never be me.
The Waiting-Man
Sleeping softly, held high by kites.
The waiting-man does fly great heights.
What does he wait for? No one knows.
Why he suffers this fate? That, he chose.
When will the kites break and awake his slumber,
And does he care, or is he dumber?
Perhaps, he too, is aware he's just a number -
In the vastness of her heart,
And so, he waits and wonders.
Suri Yeghen '28* has participated in sevenatenine literary magazine, Poetry Lovers' Club, Writer's Club, and Bridgework. She has been published in The Bucks County Herald and two anthologies. Her sociable and honest attitude makes her open to feedback and collaboration when sharing her work.