the lengthened, light-filled days

by Kathryn Sadakierski

the clouds are cherry blossoms

floating in the sky

with fading wisps of spring daylight.

their reflections flicker like swimming fish

in the water of the reservoir

as though ruffled by wind.

a mirror image, an illusion 

is just as fragile

as the down of dandelion.

it changes just as quickly

as the colors of the trees,

which are like snakes that shed their skin,

butterflies in a constant state of metamorphosis,

red-gold wings like apple slices

descending to the earth.

Kathryn Sadakierski is a 22-year-old writer whose work has been published in anthologies, magazines, and literary journals around the world, including Agape Review, Critical Read, Halfway Down the Stairs, Literature Today, NewPages Blog, Northern New England Review, seashores: an international journal to share the spirit of haiku, Snapdragon: A Journal of Art and Healing, Yellow Arrow Journal, and elsewhere. Her micro-chapbook "Travels through New York" was published by Origami Poems Project (2020). Kathryn collects vinyl records, vintage books, and memories, which inspire her art. She graduated summa cum laude with a B.A. and M.S. from Bay Path University in Longmeadow, Massachusetts.