top of page

poem


The Archaeopteryx Dreams of Flight


by Nicholas Yingling



Could I stop this? How could I

fold inhale into exhale and breathe air too

thin for fire or touch this earth

with only a shadow, feeling each root


wither in my jaw, each scale wild

as a frond, my heart growing and growing

faster until all that holds the chest together

is a wish, and not know


I’m trading one dimension for another?

How did it begin? As display? As a fall

so quiet and slow you could dress

the feather from the wing


and make of it a currency, a culture,

or some other magic.

 

Nicholas Yingling's work can be found in The Missouri Review, 32 Poems, Pleiades, Colorado Review, and others. He is a graduate of UC Berkeley and UC Davis and currently lives in the San Fernando Valley, where no one's sure why he would want to recover from an eating disorder.

Comments


bottom of page