by Emily Sorensen

by Jenna Brack

The morning grass
carries the sky on its chest,
tangible as water
elusive as air

I hold my earthen
heavy and opaque
like the soggy ground
drag them
into the mist

the cloud welcomes
my shuffling form
makes space for my cares

And I remember
I, too, am grass
free to sit
beneath the
the sky,
watch how lightly
it dissolves
inside my fingertips


About the photographer: Emily Sorensen is an instructor with Outward Bound and a DFA Candidate researching ecological art and performance at the Yale School of Drama, where she earned an MFA in Dramaturgy and Dramatic Criticism. She likes to go outside and take pictures of trees. On Instagram @emily.sorensen