* * * * *
CAGE BLIND
A POEM ABOUT THE DOMESTICATION
Enameled wire bars,
A newspaper floor,
Plastic foliage,
And tiny pink dishes
Adorn the birdcage.
She perches
On a loving hand
And sings a song
From long ago.
The wildness is
Bread out of her, but
She will never look the
Hawk in the eye
For that last heartbeat.
The cage is life.
She knows only
The loving hand,
Three cubic feet,
And the food dish.
Strongest are the bars
Unseen,
But to escape
Their boundaries,
To know flight,
And birth a soul
Would mean death
And silence.
Gladly, we do not
Entertain such concepts
Or we would not sing.
(c) A.E. Dozat 5/28/15
