print previewback JENNIFER FRANKLIN
Philomela After the Metamorphosis
What I remember most—the stillness
before flight. My body could not
believe it would rise into sky
and escape his torture. Punishing
grass, the frantic minutes I ran
stretched longer than the year
woven in silence. As a child,
I feared birds—their feathers,
stealth from behind, leaving
in a flutter. Their freedom terrified
me most but while escaping, all I
wanted was to become a creature who
lifts without thought—only instinct.
Not merely to sing but to be song. 
Amor Fati
Lavinia, Afterwards
Philomela After the Metamorphosis