Saturday, April 7, 2018

The Sound of Freedom

The Sound of Freedom

She knows
what freedom feels like.
It’s a frisky wind that riffles and
tickles the hair on her skin,
with a scent as sweet
as her own bed sheets
having steeped in the sun
‘til the day was done.

And it looks like a
lavender-pink-blue sky
with a gaggle
of gossamer clouds wafting by.
(And she’s certain too,
so it must be true:)
the tiniest bite
would be total perfection –
a lusciously, succulent,
tasty confection. But,

the sound of freedom
only breaks her heart
‘cause she’s still in the station
when the train departs.

PSC / 2018

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