Thursday, September 16, 2010

oh, to fly

feeling especially helpless
a whisper about a bird
and all I can think is "flighty"
not the good things

wishing for travels to far-off places
away from overcast skies, from routine
I don’t mean to be cliché
but don’t caged birds sing?

finding salt and wind and light
maybe that moment when I cried at breakfast
will follow me

those stolen sunglasses--your trophy--rested near
your plate of eggs and hash browns
while I meant to study biology
that casual lounging position of yours
my gaze was fixed on the door

wishing for travels
finding salt
feeling helpless

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