The breeze whispered to me:
see,
how free
you used to be.
No fences in your breath,
no anchors in your step.
Just the air,
just free verse.
Just poetry.
The breeze whispered to me:
see,
how free
you used to be.
And I,
tethered to timeworn thoughts,
watched the leaves scatter—
envying their aims:
aimlessness.
The breeze whispered to me:
see,
how free
you used to be.
