What the Bird is Thinking

“It's odd,” the bird reflects, its spindly feet
Upon the cage's doorway. “I am free.
I guess I am. The cage's door has been
Left open. Then again, the house's door
Is closed, so how far can I go? Farther
Than I thought I'd get this morning.
That thought pleases me, but I can't
Go back to the forest, cannot pick
A place to which I'd like to fly, then
Fly to it the way I did before they
Caught me, so I'm freer, but not free,
And that seems very odd.”



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 22 times
Written on 2020-10-29 at 23:42

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