Web

Flickers of dust settle on me

Sunlight yearns to flood the

Streets of my mind

I want to see the world

Like a cat sees outside a window

Pigeons flutter their wings

Taunt my heart’s desires

Maybe I can catch a glimpse

Of the grass turn green

Forget the weeds and gravel

Fly little pigeon

Fly, fly, fly

Someone wipe this web clean

It casts too many shadows

On my feet, on my hands

On all the crevices of my face

Perhaps I should have been the bird

But I sit here grounded, I’m a stone

Hard-headed, old- one day brittle.

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