There is
still some wild within us;
the joys of
seeing a free creature are indisputable.
Our captured
souls
long for
their boundlessness.
And even a
tagged mountain goat looks on me with pity.
He does not
shy –
he feels my
being
it’s painful
longing…is this why he cannot bare meeting my eye?
Does the
hawk comprehend the woe of a creature confined?
Is it why he
dances circles high above my inadequacy?
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