Sky was pitch,
bit of blaring red coming from a stray light.
Great white flood lamps illuminated all corners of the Earth,
skewing existence to be perceived as more simulation in this one dome
rather than reality everywhere. I decided, in that moment, that if the world were to go dark like this,
I wouldn’t have minded.
Tall grass tickled our calves and,
after fifty steps in any direction, soaked our shoes,
letting water squelch out with every step.
Eerie, chattering intimacy between this ground, myself, and the stars enunciated only by the crackle-pop of sneakers against rolling rocks.
We searched for gold.
The careful yet clumsy actions
slipped between needle-forked branches,
tiptoed over densely-packed roots,
and eased through fascination with the sizes of spiderwebs and pinecones.
A love for adventure plus this messy corporeal body. But then,
in entire darkness, a discovery of Pre-Atlantis and dirt.
A discovery of something that is inherently wrong but not necessarily immediate.
A plunge beneath the tidepools.
Humorous relief molded of Georgia’s red clay and the distance between branches.
Empty hands but a subconscious fulfillment.
Skies slowly raised their curtains and the pink
peeked over the horizon and stretched.
The hills soon relinquished their bedsheets of morning fog
and out came a blue so large and deep I forgot the sky and the ocean had long separated.
Christina Wang is a student writer at Milton High School. She has been recognized by the Scholastic Art & Writing Competition. She was also an Atlanta Youth Poet Laureate Finalist. She is an editor at VOX Teen Communications, and has been published there as well as Crashtest Magazine; the Suoo Magazine; in her school’s literature magazine, Globe; and on Teen Ink’s website. She speaks four languages and lives her day-to-day life passionately. She is always in search of something interesting.