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the gift of flight

November 28, 2016

my apartment is full of
empty cages
with open doors

the beastly beauty
of the birds
is on the wing

there is no capture in love,
there is only release

and so let fly also
my distracted thoughts
of a stranger’s white-knuckled
sunken-eyed
possessive folly

for I seek no dominion
over bird nor beast,
nor harbour ill will

bars and keys are for
music theory,
for when to play
and at what pitch
to fly

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