TRACK//FOUR
  • ABOUT
    • MASTHEAD
    • CONTACT
    • CONTRIBUTORS
  • ISSUES
    • VOLUME ONE >
      • ISSUE ONE
      • ISSUE TWO
      • ISSUE THREE
      • ISSUE FOUR
    • VOLUME TWO >
      • ISSUE ONE
      • ISSUE TWO
      • ISSUE THREE
      • ISSUE FOUR
  • SUBMISSIONS
  • BLOG
BACK TO VOLUME ONE // ISSUE THREE

MIGRATION

CINDY SONG
Nothing quite sounds the same after the swans 
leave. The lake does not easily forget, bubbling 

underneath starved weeds and moldy paint. You & 
Tian never liked those damn birds, white necks 


stretched thin as the Marlboros rolling around
the 
floor of your car. I'd snap them. Feel the bones &

feathers crushed under my fingers. 
Nothing quite 
says rebirth like your handpicked rocks that go

skip, skip, skip across the water. The ripples make 
me think like a cygnet embryo—born in God's hand

only to find the world shattering apart first thing. 
Tian says the swans go wherever it snows, but I

say they fly wherever Liberty cracks the sky open.

Picture
CINDY SONG is 16 years old and a high school junior living in Rockville, Maryland. Her poetry and prose have been recognized by the National Poetry Quarterly and the PTA Reflections program. In addition to writing, she likes going outside for walks, working on paintings, and catching up on her favorite shows.
Powered by Create your own unique website with customizable templates.
  • ABOUT
    • MASTHEAD
    • CONTACT
    • CONTRIBUTORS
  • ISSUES
    • VOLUME ONE >
      • ISSUE ONE
      • ISSUE TWO
      • ISSUE THREE
      • ISSUE FOUR
    • VOLUME TWO >
      • ISSUE ONE
      • ISSUE TWO
      • ISSUE THREE
      • ISSUE FOUR
  • SUBMISSIONS
  • BLOG