Three poems by Morgan Harlow

  Starlings the bird of her life she realized now feeling déjà vu as she watched them chirp their way through the cattail marsh geese honking overhead. Overturning leaves with their dark pointed beaks their heads the iridescent blue of bottle flies their under feathers fan out almost adorably like a yellow Easter chick’s in the spring breeze— and then fall flat again.   (first … Continue reading Three poems by Morgan Harlow