When a pet bird escapes
Through windows or holes
In the walls or the roof
She is overwhelmed by freedom
Wings catching air she soars
In only one direction
Up
Almost as if she knows
There's nothing for her down here
A beeline straight into the stratosphere
Her weak wings quickly wearying
Having never really been used before
They can take her only so far
Until worn down they give up
Burning and aching like overdriven muscle
Exhilarated and ready
For free fall
Her weakness is the ceiling
An invisible barrier of pure air
Across which fate has decreed
She will not pass
Not high enough to touch clouds
But much too high to expect
A smooth landing
Much of a landing at all
Perhaps someone will see her
Grisly reunion with Gaia's unyielding Tarmac
The price you pay for too much freedom
As her cage is cleaned
Ready to be sold in a garage sale
Because the guy who kept her
Couldn't bear the guilt
Of accidentally leaving the window open
No matter his love for winged creatures
He'll never own another one
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