Artic Cage Poem by A.J. McKinley

I flittered like a frozen butterfly in a silver artic haze.

My wings wilting erroneously from a chill since unbridled.

I waited in my wonderland of crystal blue ice.

But my freedom wass contingent upon surrealistic designs.

A Martyr in my mind ceases her egocentric complaining.

I have floated on a morally inept Western Wind.

But flames from a lust so potent seared me into unbridled action.

I leapt with the joy of supplication and the artic relased its prize.