there was a man
only a few years ago
he would pack his backpack to the brim
leaving no room for life’s gifts
while others hiked through the woods
he would run — over hills and wild paths
grabbing freedom by its wings
lifting the sky with his story,
and letting lakes cleanse his darkness.
then one day came
the backpack became a heavy suitcase
the wings, they bid him farewell
shadows wrapped around him
and trust had long been broken.
though he dreams, at times, of that perfect wilderness
what remains now
are just high ceilings.
The Poet Saw Her Will
Leave a Reply