THE SUN WILL RETURN TO ARIES

Loose coral strands
flutter in the breeze
and fade with the setting
sun. Thin fingers brush

away bangs, tickling her nose.
Sandals shift pebbles,
water licks her toes—
suds between velcro

straps. She rests
on a damp rock
that juts from the lake—
its tongue froths over

her perch.
Pebbles and shiny

pieces of sea glass
shiver from water’s
withdrawal. The lake
tightly grasps sun’s

last cotton candy rays.
Its airy breath brushes
her lips, ruffles her oversized
shirt and drifts through

rising hairs on her arm—
raspberry soda
braids. The lake holds
its breath expecting

her to light a tightly
rolled blunt. Instead
she wades through
tepid waves, a baggy

shirt stuck to her skin
as she dives in.

Anna Chwiejczak is a senior at SUNY ESF studying wildlife science. She is passionate about conveying the world of science through the art of poetry.