Like a kestrel lost in a storm, enraged
By the wind that pushes me back towards home,
Failing strength in my tired wings, engaged
In a battle to rise above the foam
On my slate-grey seas. This tie binds me here,
And on a short rope I roam: let me fly
Away, and I’ll return when Autumn’s clear
Sky settles my wandering heart with a sigh.
Waves beat at my breast, and salt stings my eyes,
And the noose grows tighter around my chest:
Straining forward, my placid face belies
This sudden storm that’s given me my best
Chance to escape this moral gravity
And soar above my rain-swept dignity.
by Jenn Slemmer
Photo by Robert B
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