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  • Writer's pictureAlice Wyatt

Nowhere Else to Go



the osprey perches high above me

a slight movement caught my eye

perhaps tucking unhatched eggs

further under soft, warm belly feathers

or giving a morsel to a hungry chick


a beautiful, wild thing


it takes my breath away

memories of a childhood

where birds of prey

swooped down

plucking trout out of

rushing river or

vast expanse of alpine lake


only this nest is built atop a Starbucks sign

in a suburban strip mall

the only green, scripted landscaping

false moonlight created by

streetlights reflecting off pavement puddles





i turn my head away

the sadness of it overwhelming

a wild thing

making do

submitting to surrounding circumstances

forced to conform to survive


you do not belong here

I whisper


I have nowhere else to go

the wild answers back

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