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  You could have a big dipper   

Gold by Siobhan Manrique

The yellow raincoat boy

sailed far on his chains

while I scuffed and stomped.

You swing higher, he said,

if you don’t let your feet

touch the ground.

So I stopped kicking gravel

and found myself in the air.

I burst free!

I bounced from treetops and thought bubbles,

ping-ponged off sunbeams and rooftops,

swimming and floating and gliding

in a robin’s egg sky,

past airplanes and insects

chasing their tails,

and thinking of angels,

of how someone had told me

freckles mark the spot

where angels kissed you.

But why would an angel kiss me

under my bathing suit?

Are they mindless like goldfish,

gaping and biting at baby flesh,

same as they would for flakes of feed?

As I drifted through clouds

like a balloon let go,

I wondered if I’d see any angels,

if this time they’d leave me alone,

and if they’re really made of gold.


Siobhan Manrique is a middle school English teacher in rural Arizona. She earned her BA in English and Certificate in Creative Writing at Northern Arizona University. Her poetry, fiction, and nonfiction have appeared in Full House Literary Magazine, Milkyway Magazine, Talking Writing, and others. She lives in a mining town with her husband and their dogs. Her published work is available at

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