Wings, by Carrie Stearns

Have I ever had wings?

If I did I think I must have liked them.

Just the thought of them makes me smile.

Wings make their own kind of wind.

Wings can open wide or close up tight.

I think I would like to tuck myself under a wing

take shelter in its softness 

and sleep.

Crashing Onto the Beaches, by Melissa Hamilton

I want to be the kind of woman who would drive all night

with windows down

looking for salt air to yell, “stop!”

As if I had lain in a dungeon for years,

this first sight of ocean, better than food.

I want to be the kind of woman who would barely park between the lines, leave sunscreen on the seat and sprint down the sands.

Never heeding the beach towels and castles —

there is reason they call it Baptism.