Anuja Ghimire

Six

Things I want to tell Phoebe:

 

I hope the bridge stood still

And the river waved

To welcome you home.

 

I hope the rise felt like swinging,

The ripples made room for your landing

In the dark waterpark.

 

I hope you were asleep

And your heart was still whole.

 

I hope you dreamed of Elsa

And the cold never bothered you.

 

I hope you can hear me.

 

I hope you flew.

 

 

 

 

 

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ISSUE 91
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