A girl on a swing, unseen by the world below,

Her form a wisp of smoke, drifting in the endless glow.

She swings through silence, between the stars and the sky,

A hole in the mountain, where no one dares to look or try.

Her heat burns bright, but no one feels the flame,

Only shadows whisper of her, calling her by name.

She moves through the air, a secret in motion,

A fleeting thought, a hidden emotion.

No one knows her path, nor the world she’s from

Only the sky holds her truth, where no one’s come.

By Tishkia Fisher