Three Golden Sacks by Ella Poston (’22)

Photo credit:

Photo credit:

Ella Poston, Contributor

Three golden sacks hung from a tree

Upon a summer’s day.

The air blew t’wards them from the sea,

Causing them to sway.


Then the day had come at last

For them finally be free.

They came to the world like those from their past

Soon they all will see.


The first to come was on the right,

Her skin and face were flush.

Her hair and eyes so pure and white,

Her wings a coral blush.


The other came with hair like wine

And blazing fire eyes.

His careful features so divine

And wings that matched the sky.


As they waited for wings to dry,

The branch began to shake.

They looked below and to the sky

And the other began to awake.


As the sack began to break,

Liquid seeped out the crack.

The fluid seemed to be a lake,

The color a rotten black.


The siblings looked upon the slime,

The opening growing wide.

The earth had stopped along with time,

The sound of nature died.


The sack burst open, and so it came,

The fragile beast within.

With small and stick-like body frame

And skin of green porcelain.


Slowly she began to wake,

And soon she came to speak

Her voice was rough, about to break,

A whisper but violent squeak.


“Brother, sister, I’ve come at last!

How much I’ve longed to see you.

This world we see is bright and vast.

It’s all so very new!”


“My body’s cold and voice is weak,

My skin a pale green.

How is it that while I speak,

You two are oh so clean?”