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  • Writer's pictureClay Literary

FLEDGLING- Issue Four (08/09/2020)

Image Source: fosa./Flickr


Written by Grace Nask

Orb of light frozen in the ground

Covered in ice after ice after ice.

Each layer a person’s

Face staring out with glassy eyes

That gaze unseeing as though dead. Each one

When reached out to was turned to stone.

Smashed with a hammer swung by

Its own hand.

Underneath it all the orb



Goes out as though

Dead to protect the ones shattered.

It’s better this way.

A new tear paves its way through the ice

And melts the self-created cage. A hand

Reaches out to the orb, grasping it, pulling it out.

The orb’s light flickers back and

Flares up, illuminating the tundra that was only a mirage.

The orb can’t forget the stone faces of the ones who tried

Beforehand. It can’t forget the icy cage it

Closed itself into to protect.

To forget would be fatal

To the world.

To remember would be fatal

To itself.

But it can’t forget.

The orb of light has long since

Retreated to the tundra.

A layer of ice protects the world

From its rays. Or perhaps it

From the world. But it is not dead.

It will never die


The ice chills but does not trap.

The cage holds but drips with unfrozen water.

The light will




The ice is over the orb but

Thin enough to be broken

By a single knock on friendship’s door.

Author bio: Grace Nask is a Hufflepuff who wishes she could turn into a cat. She will be attending the Philadelphia Writers’ Conference in the fall and will also have two poems titled “The Power of the Sun” and “Twinkle, Little Star, Until You Fade Out” published by Down in the Dirt Literary Magazine in December. One could learn more about her by visiting her website at her WattPad (under Grace Nask) and Facebook (as Grace Nask’s Books and Manuscripts) profiles.

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