here, in the crumpled
grass, a baby
bluebird. so small
it is small
even in the nest
of a child’s hands
hands full of crimson
sky—clouds clot
the hole left behind.
a child said it,
and it seemed true:
isn’t there a bird
whose call sounds like
i’msorry, i’msorry?
how will we dig
deep enough—
a hole deep enough
for the sky?
–
Audrey Rose is a MFA student at the University of South Florida, and she served as an art, comics, photography, and poetry editor for Saw Palm: Florida Literature and Art. Beyond poetry, she is passionate about STEM and earned her BA in Mathematics. She was nominated by USF for the 2021 Best New Poets anthology, and she currently supervises the Math, Science, and Business Tutoring Center at Hillsborough Community College.
© 2021, Audrey Rose
Halfway Down the Stairs 