Poetry of Love, Resistance, & Solidarity

Once, escape was a harvested field.
I wove my way through headless milo stalks
looking for something to hold.  I found

crickets and moonlight.  I lay down,
stretched my weight against earth,

lifted my arms, as if my hands could touch
the Milky Way. They couldn’t, but suddenly
I knew I was looking down and not falling.

Something bigger than me held on,
and for a while we spun there, shining.

— Shelly Krehbiel


Comments on: "148. To the Stars Through Difficulties: Shelly Krehbiel" (1)

  1. janiejarrett said:

    I love the images in this poem. I think I can smell the sweet Milo.

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