Sotto Voce

Ginny Short

I find myself unable to move
In the place flowing
Underneath the stream of sleep

I dream or think or mumble
“I am wounded,” speaking
From the darkness of my throat

I try to spread my wings
But my fingers won’t winkle and turn
In the dawn
And my toes are lead sinks
Tying me to the earth

I try
I try
I try to fly
But my body screams
“I am wounded.”

On the other side of pain
Are dreams of flight
Stumbling onto the daystar
I have one foot
One broken wing
following steps towards
That dream of wings.


When Ginny is not examining flowers with a close-up lens, or watching how the scales on a lizard’s back glint in the sun she can usually be found writing. She has been published in many venues. Writing has always been her salvation, and is a passion that comes from her love of the natural world. A biologist working in the Colorado desert, she has this crazy idea that something can be done to save the world. So, she tries. She loves reading, writing, digital art and playing with her abundant menagerie, all of whom are rescue animals. She can be found at