Hannah > Books: favorites‎ (47)

This is a bandit night at its best: the glow and the warmth of the camp in the dark woods, the light of the fire and us singing and dancing and hollering around it, the people songs and the nighttime songs and our laughter all mixing together into something new and hopeful, a kind of promise, or maybe a wish. An owl hushes us from the trees up where I can't see any owl but I know it's there watching me. I wonder what the owl thinks of us. I wonder what Momma would think of me, dancing and all dressed up, her own daughter a bandit?

I've grown accustomed
to the lack of light
inside our studio.
But from this angle
of fatigue a r

I've grown accustomed
to the lack of light
inside our studio.
But from this angle
of fatigue a ray
slants through
the window
to bounce across the surface
of the foul, gelatinous
potion I've just brewed.

Beneath the light, it's a golden sea,
tranquil but for the slightest breeze.
A place where magic hums
beneath the surface, mermaids,
water sprites, and queens
of gleaming realms

I'll say this quietly,
I needn't roar to be heard,
I can be a friend
to a bee or a bird.

You said I must change, I must chomp Marianne,
but chomping your friends is a terrible plan.

Let nobody say
just one way is true.
There are so many ways
that you can be you.