Sarah Senne

We were the girls with—
that made mountains out of anthills
in the sandbox.
Our knees scraped with childhood stories
and Carolina sweat
sat on soft brows.
The world is made of grey-yellow here,
the world is shadow’s gold.

I remember the popsicles that—
pearly children’s teeth and tongue
the world moving so. Slow.
Every weekday I would press my hands up to the glass
red and white and small,
beds of tulips bright below me.
We would pluck petals and hide them,
soft little secrets behind young tongues.

Antioch Writers’ Workshop 1st Place Youth Winner

about the author
Sarah Senne is finally sharing her writing after many years and many notebooks. She is eighteen years old and interested in writing, neuroscience, and photography.