Poetry • by Phoebe Wang 2

Poetry by Phoebe Wang Scotch Broom Given the chance, who wouldn’t do the same? You rode in the coat-pockets of your forefathers, made your own bed. Encouraged to spread in all directions, you tapped deep, rendered it a headache for anything else to settle. We hold your success against you. Each spring is a trial by fire. Yellow flags highlight a cautionary tale.      –•–  [  >>>>> BIOS   I   COVER ]   [Distillate © HA&L + Phoebe Wang  |  {from the Greek bios} -- the course of a life.]