【by Allie Mikalatos】

to the frogs, to the birds,
to the rain on the roof,
to the train roaring
its sharp horn until
it fades away like light,
to sunsets on the beach
in wintertime, my fingers numb
and wrapped in a scarf,
to the glare of stars
reflecting silver as I face
the horizon, where waves
turn stone to sediment to sand,
shells to sand, bones to sand,
my body to sand,
the pulse of the waves
undoing this petrified state
as dawn rises like a swan
unfurling her wings
to drift in the wind.