On Resilience

By Rebecca L. Morrison

They soar in packs; they
tumble through slate skies; they know
secrets that seep through the
soles of your feet.

We groan like air-crafts
plunged from ten thousand feet to
find our faith obscured beneath the sand.

We're waiting for misery's cry. We bask in
orcan oil; we're ravaged by

rogues taking wing from the reef.

We limp away from this rubble like
iron soldiers, fighting their lightning,

wary of glacial depths. We'll
echo the wreckage and aerial ruin until a

pod finds us squinting as they're
winging far West.