Broken hearts from broken cords
Cold wick on frozen wax
Ancient seeds on shelves in the cellar
Broken cords tied to broken trees
Bees feed on pre-leafiness
Little feet trying to attach to the dirt
Broken trees against a broken sky
Stars waiting to fall
Waiting for eyes to see them fall
Broken skies blanket broken skin
Drops fall thick and black
Feed the growth and the beat
Dance on even after
Cutting the umbilical cord
This is my journey
— Nate Long “Owl”
Pen and ink with digital manipulation