up under the angels marble beetles too wish to be blessed
scuttering like blind prophets across
this scorched plain they wait for the first hard rain
or the final judgment
of an oblivious boot heel cicadas split themselves open
singing all night of humid heat and burial
by dawn their husks cling
to porch posts a silent prayer premature butterflies unfurl
wet wings into the cold teeth of wind
hunger makes you holy
even a dying thing will crawl toward
the promise of light on the bank a scarecrow rots
into the posture of prayer and no one notices
do not forget
sycamore roots can choke as well as anchor
i have dug them from clay
like twisted rope i have seen a sapling starve
in the shadow of its father.
this scorched plain they wait for the first hard rain
or the final judgment
of an oblivious boot heel cicadas split themselves open
singing all night of humid heat and burial
by dawn their husks cling
to porch posts a silent prayer premature butterflies unfurl
wet wings into the cold teeth of wind
hunger makes you holy
even a dying thing will crawl toward
the promise of light on the bank a scarecrow rots
into the posture of prayer and no one notices
do not forget
sycamore roots can choke as well as anchor
i have dug them from clay
like twisted rope i have seen a sapling starve
in the shadow of its father.
Spring 2026
Ashley Mo is a senior at the Harker School in California. Her poetry can be found or is forthcoming in the Roanoke Review, The Shore, Gone Lawn, Eunoia Review, Blue Marble Review, and more. A finalist and representative for the Santa Clara County Youth Poet Laureate program, she has also received recognition from the Alliance for Young Artists, Princeton University, Columbia Granger, and the city of Saratoga. In her free time, she enjoys playing golf, trying new cafes, and spending quality time with friends.
Art: Pamela Hobart Carter
While We Listen, 2025
An any-side-up, ink, pastel, and acrylic on (cheap) paper
While We Listen, 2025
An any-side-up, ink, pastel, and acrylic on (cheap) paper