top of page

Skipping Boulders by Anonymous

  • Sep 29, 2022
  • 1 min read

I know a woman

who will not fly

except in planes

three seats next to

five seats next to

three


She will not fly

in narrow steel tubes,

darts tossed casually

across a map


They are likely to slip

from the sky,

she worries.

They are too thin

too small

too light

to fly well at all


She is comfortable

only in the belly

of great wrought

whales,

hundred eyes along

their spines,

their innards crammed

with people

sipping liquor

and reading the paper

 
 

Recent Posts

See All
Wander by Musa Shafiq

Running around this maze, dead end after dead end, Give me my life back. Give me my light back. Give me my art back. Give me myself back. They told me many things:  youth is a false lie, you're a fake

 
 
Soulmates by Ellie Xu

There is something romantic about the nonexistence of fate. Without the semantics: I have never believed in soulmates. Past the whispers of voices, and the twistiest of turns, through the strangest of

 
 
The Thought Of Life by J William Meek

I can’t see hope on the other end. All I see is the blinding light of darkness that never bends, only straight on its pathway down to death, so my only path is deeper down the cave of rest. My emotion

 
 

© 2026 • THE EIDOLON • WALT WHITMAN HIGH SCHOOL

bottom of page