Squall

Poetry by Ian Schoultz

Four birds fly in the evening sky, the sunset turning the sky pink and purple behind them.

we fly in the gullet
of some strange bird

landing on worlds
thickening 
peaceably

holding the slight stillness between
the shy sky
the tiny spaces
inside we
howl
like how

hush old feather
these losses we take
in waking

i miss you in a room full of you
i hear thru i hear
when what is left
is left


Ian Schoultz‘s poems have appeared in Rogue Agent, Vagabond City, Wild Roof Journal, Autofocus, FEED, Dream Pop, and other journals. He holds an MFA in Poetry from Louisiana State University and teaches writing at Southern University in Baton Rouge, Louisiana.

Photo by Saurav Mahto on Unsplash

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