Like a bird, she sang
in these halls,
lifting the grey
out of the stones
to call the sunlight
to our door.

In her corner,
she built
a nest of hopes
and lilac dreams
tendered on her pillow
falling to the floor.

She flew
out the window
propped ajar
to let the rain in,
to draw the stars down
from the deepening blue.

Like a bird, she left
a song in our throats,
a tune in the air.
It rings in these halls.
Rises out of stones,
knocks on our doors. 

Written by: Mandy Moe Pwint Tu

President, Order of the Gown
Co-Director, Sewanee Academic Diversity Cohort

Member, Interfaith Advisory Council

Staff Writer, The Sewanee Purple
C'21