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Freedom's Cradle Fair, Freedom's Cradle Far
May 24, 2014
The sun doesn't shine
in the pits where I lie,
her fair beams too soft
for the blanketed dark.
These depths are too far
for the fallen to climb
before they sew wings
to their soil-caked spine
These walls are too high
for the prisoners to climb
with their ball and chain bones
and their noose-laden necks
The walls are too high
and the prisoners don't climb
with the wings of a bird
taped to their clothes
The cages bird sinks
in its hollow-rib cage home
and dreams of the sun;
to stretch its wings and leap
into the gentle cradle of her arms.
© Brittan S., Claremont, CA
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