the cage is locked
from within
a trap set by unknowing hands
you bleed
through pores of disgruntled flesh
flailing
for reason to find the stolen key
hidden in some dark socket
of a primitive skull
and hope
like a feather
drifts
upon the improvident air
lightly brushing the iron shackles
and floating
like a question
just barely out of reach...
(Previously published in L'Intrigue, Aug 1999; Poetry and Art, Feb 2001)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem