At birth, he swung into the wrong crib, wrong life. Shimmering motes and sweeping flight should have awaited—a vagabond life. Instead, staid routine. Later, cleaners’ brooms. Oh, but he could see them!—those ropes between peaks of stars, begging down to him each night while he made floors sparkle.

Linda Kohler is a South Australian writer of poetry and brief prose. Her work has recently appeared in The Marrow, The Ekphrastic Review and Meniscus. She can usually be found near water or seeking new ways with cacao.