After a summer storm At an open window world made fresh newly washed in God’s best rain – a cluster of drops deck the sill like miniature snowless globes. Trapped inside a viscous dome an insect thrown on its back rocks to & fro, to & fro to right its body to free wings held fast by force of water – yet with a kind of certainty makes its way to the sill’s edge breaks through the prison skin and melded wings spring apart. Like a wordless prayer, the creature flies away.
Annie Morris lives in SW London. Her poems have appeared in various online and print publications such as Minute Magazine, Allegro, Red Wolf Journal, Blue Heron Review, The Dawntreader, Shot Glass Journal and the anthology Myth & Metamorphosis (Penteract Press).