THE CAGE
Thoughts like an empty cage
receive the morning
through the windowpane
and quietly swing.
No flutter brings my eye
to a meaninged core
for the waking light,
the door transparent.
Held blind by the mirror
and deaf by the bell,
I must search my mind
by taste, smell, and touch.
Bars silhouette a wall
to enclose the noon
where images halt
and the night soon comes.
O bird that set me free
to try my own wings,
how this false spring tree
clings that I perch on!