Fledglings
It was not without a faltering nod
That we spoke of the elusiveness of ‘good’.
When, one eye shut, we discerned Achebe’s dilemma
As a jagged shape
On the horizon of childish gaze.
Our bashed-in heads were full; brimming with evils
Not worldy,
But those needling high school horrors;
Snatches of laughter over your shoulder;
The crimson crime of speaking out of turn.
We knew about the caverns of humanity
When they appeared only as new-born worms
Squirming among the eagerness
Of a silvering youth.
- Molly Taylor
It was not without a faltering nod
That we spoke of the elusiveness of ‘good’.
When, one eye shut, we discerned Achebe’s dilemma
As a jagged shape
On the horizon of childish gaze.
Our bashed-in heads were full; brimming with evils
Not worldy,
But those needling high school horrors;
Snatches of laughter over your shoulder;
The crimson crime of speaking out of turn.
We knew about the caverns of humanity
When they appeared only as new-born worms
Squirming among the eagerness
Of a silvering youth.
- Molly Taylor
Fledglings is a touching portrait of a class studying Achebe's Vultures during GCSE, and, Molly says,”the ways in which we all recognised his dilemma albeit in an incredibly naive way”.
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