A Literary Magazine
dogeeseseegod
Arctic Tern
Christina Ellison
The park bench is occupied
by a boy in a white slicker
staring between fat raindrops
at a bird on a far branch.
By the boy in a white slicker
lies a red-dappled dish rag.
The bird on the far branch
takes flight; left behind are
lies about a red-dappled dish rag
and a boy with a busted nose who
took flight. Left behind are
fistfuls of misplaced anger.
And the boy with a busted nose
sniffles between his raindrops,
mind full of misplaced hope.
The park bench is occupied.
About the Author
Christina Ellison (she/her) is an MFA candidate at Sam Houston State University, an Editorial Fellow at the Texas Review Press, and managing editor of The Measure. Her stories appear in HUMID 14 and 15. She lives in Spring, Texas, with her best friend, air conditioning.
