My home, in every bone you have hidden a bird
with teeth. Each one hungry and tugging.
Each one with air kindling beneath its wings, inside
its lung. I am not warm enough
to keep them. Their eyes so dim, their little throats so small
I have to break their pills over applesauce, stir them into
my marrow. The birds are anxious. The birds
grind their teeth too much. The birds are waiting for the sky
to come and part me. They are waiting to fly to you.
Daniel Blokh is a 15-year-old American writer of Russian-Jewish descent, living in Birmingham, Alabama. He is the author of the memoir In Migration (BAM! Publishing 2016), the micro-chapbook The Wading Room (Origami Poems Project 2016), and the chapbook Grimmening (forthcoming from Diode Editions). His work has been recognized by the Scholastic Art and Writing awards and the Foyle Young Poet awards, and has appeared in DIALOGIST, Gigantic Sequins, Forage Poetry, Avis Magazine, Thin Air Magazine, Cicada Magazine, and more. He works as an editor at Parallel Ink and a reader at the Adroit Journal. He should probably go play outside with his friends, but he's busy worrying about the results of his writing submissions