Objects of Our Lives

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Abstract

referral">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure>I gaze at the river below me with my shepherd’s stick in hand. The shepherd leading us says we can’t stop now. So we all head down the hill. The guy in front of me has strapped his stick to his bag. I appear over his shoulder. Idly. Idly, he’s playing with a rubric cube. I sigh, coming to a halt at a slow river

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. The shepherd picks up a smooth rock. Splash, splash, splash. It arches over the water, sending ripples across. He tells us to make a wish. So I do. I’m sitting around a campfire as an ancient lady gestures wildly, telling a story of the Siberian wolf claw. Out in the distance, leaves rustle, and a wolf howls.(Drafted 2018)</article></body>

Objects of Our Lives

Poem

I gaze at the river below me with my shepherd’s stick in hand. The shepherd leading us says we can’t stop now. So we all head down the hill. The guy in front of me has strapped his stick to his bag. I appear over his shoulder. Idly. Idly, he’s playing with a rubric cube. I sigh, coming to a halt at a slow river. The shepherd picks up a smooth rock. Splash, splash, splash. It arches over the water, sending ripples across. He tells us to make a wish. So I do. I’m sitting around a campfire as an ancient lady gestures wildly, telling a story of the Siberian wolf claw. Out in the distance, leaves rustle, and a wolf howls.

(Drafted 2018)