“Get
Out...” the others said...
“Get
out while you still can...before their gates lock...
and
they pull up the drawbridge...”
But
already...I could see...their fire had encircled me...
And
was...steadily...burning inward...
But
that is what they did say...
And
then I said, “but in the stories I was told...
there was love in
it”...
And
I did want to believe that...but then...
Everything
they said would happen did happen...
And
there was no visible way out left...but up...
So
that is how I learned to fly...
And
that is the good part....
***
No comments:
Post a Comment