night blue
plastic truck
we sing Saturn’s
rings to pieces in the
shower I was
whole let me tell
you
of a time I
drank the world
until I lost hold
of the ground
until I became
a wintered kite
with no tether
and all the
weather
broke us
down can’t you
remember tiny
wheels
in your palm
About the Author
Logan Hale (he/they) is a young queer poet, currently working on publishing his first pieces of work. They are from a small town in the Rocky Mountains and can often be found alone in the forest. He writes with a focus on queer joy, and the natural world.
