I have room to breath -
my ribs can't catch the edge
of this expanding universe,
and, so, I suppose the cage is irrelevant.
I can reach an arm as far as my shoulder allows -
as long as my hand slips through the slats.
With eyes shut, and cage in sway,
I've no reason to feel I'm in any particular place.
This entry was posted in Poetry, poem and tagged poetry, poem by B Gourley. Bookmark the permalink.
