Your talons wish to hold me
Primed to fly out of your nest, I see
Aged boy with your tattered wings and tired eyes
Amused by me, confused by me,
You circle above me but cannot land
Feisty I make thee, some frustrated soliloquy
The gold band that keeps you tethered,
and the storms that you have weathered.
It’s not I that can cut the ties that bind you
Or take off the obligated hood that blinds you
In odalisque fashion I twirl in this latent field
and hope one day I scan the skies and see
Your silver wings fly free.

01/03/2006

Posted on 01/03/2006
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