Lullaby For Wild Children
Updated: Jun 19, 2022
Written by Willow, one of our poetry writers, and edited by Udita, one of our editors!
![](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/621256_1710bde5112242ce9a8947aab2955e7d~mv2.jpg/v1/fill/w_474,h_700,al_c,q_80,enc_auto/621256_1710bde5112242ce9a8947aab2955e7d~mv2.jpg)
Epiphanies are creatures of the night
where fossilized sailors haunt
dogs stare at the shriveling moon,
with glazed eyes & yet somehow
we manage to find nuggets
of rose quartz, cradled by rocks
tonight, one prayer I say will be to you:
pull me away from the edge
of the fireflies’ favorite theater,
the streetlamp, that picks out
with a gentle giant’s fingers,
boyish skateboard-wielding thieves
even at midnight as birds become senile,
careful not to wake the woody monsters,
let us shout, from the top
of a neon-lit grocer’s, our lantern nocturnes
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This piece was written by one of our poetry columnists, Willow. Reach them at @oldmanheart, on Instagram!
This piece was edited by one of our editors, Udita. Reach them at @wilde_woolf on Instagram.
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