Ash birds spoke in the night of boys who called flame to bed
Montana air is biting coal but she invites a scourge in the morning
It always sounded strange how a boy jumping flame can’t seem to feel his toes
How one day a mother is coaxing up matches and the next her son turns to cinder
A sun had invaded the western plane red only looked like an exit
And when my dad arrived home my mother found forests smothered in the space of his hands
-- Cady Hockman is a 17 year old senior from the Shenandoah Valley, Virginia. She is an advocate for compassion and literacy, and a skilled pizza maker. Having developed a fervent interest in poetry, Cady will write until the commencement of Sherlock series 5 or our universe’s heat death (whichever comes first). She extends encouragement and thanks to all that dare to create.