Sarah Soltis

"I'm a sixteen year-old girl from Maryland who loves the water and traveling and writing. Both poems are about time and growth, but Terracotta also speaks to feeling small and unheard."

IG: @sarah.soltis

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Terracotta

I am wound in wind,
Weaved in wisps of air.
The universe screams in screeching brakes,
turning a corner, perhaps,
Spilling on the sidewalk, the sight
of the terracotta-hued roof.

I used to daydream in shotgun,
sitting still now, in another passenger seat
Wishes always shatter
somewhere around that curb.

Consciousness flutters in those shadows -
the tree in the parking lot,
evergreen and gravel, the taste
of nearly four just before
time changes.

If I opened my mouth, would you hear?
Cars rattling on –
A cycle from brakes to ignition
It’s no coincidence
It’s no
no

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Halving

Almost summer itchy,
Like grass on bare skin, sticky
Like orange juice around your mouth -
Here, let me kiss it off.
The desire for closure, enough
Of this half season
Half in, half on,
Half here, half gone,
Half full.
I want to be full
But my days are still filled
By passivity, standing still.
Could we yet carry it away?
Come what may, it is only May
Bleeding into June
Spilling onto you.
and yet i feel it - that restless void.
Come quick and fulfill me,
As if you could help me.