One day, her hands became birds by Arlyn LaBelle

Gold Finch in flight 10-01-2012 460

Photograph by Richard Hurd

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One day, her hands became birds
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and he could not forgive her.
They ate sunflower seeds, and
dipped themselves in fountains.
Her hands slept in trees,
folding gently on themselves.
He missed the way they’d
weighed his chest like stones,
keeping him still as he dreamed.
He hated holding them now,
in his hands, their little hearts
beating.
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Writer's Photograph
Arlyn LaBelle is a poet and legal assistant living in Austin, Texas. Her poems have appeared multiple times in the Badgerdog summer anthologies as well as Words Work, Persona, The Missing Slate, The Blue Hour, LAROLA, JONAH Magazine, The Oddville Press, Songs of Eretz, Cease, Cows and The Southern Poetry Review.  Arlyn LaBelle Poetry
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To view more photographs by Richard Hurd please visit https://www.flickr.com/photos/rahimageworks/

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