You are the voice whose edge is diamond
You are the voice of the waves and the swell
You are the voice whose call always wakens me
You are the voice of the people who fell
writer, book reviewer, daydreamer
You are the voice whose edge is diamond
You are the voice of the waves and the swell
You are the voice whose call always wakens me
You are the voice of the people who fell
I jumped over a hill today.
One of those great rolling ones
that merge with the ocean
just out of sight.
I did it in one spring.
At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.
I don’t want to talk about the chains.
They wrap around my arms,
squeezing
the flesh
so that it bulges.
I used
to point at them,
rattle the links in their faces.
But always
they would claim
they couldn’t see.
Now I stare into the distance,
leaping across fields
and dipping my toes
into the cool water of the lake.
They can’t see the chains;
they can’t see my escape.
The air
might not
be fresh on my journeys.
I don’t mind.
There’s freedom there,
and I claim it.
Naturalist and multi-award winning author
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