By Anaya Ertz

I can feel the quiet.
palpable in my hand
like a shot sparrow, heavy
and feathered
with the breath of 4 a.m.

it’s a palmful of gold:
valued and shiny and bright and
worthless in all ways but
maybe spiritual.

should it be buried?
stuffed and made anew?
wrapped in white linen?
no. it should be held
like another hand
and loved.

Honorable Mention: Anaya Ertz
Marin Academy