Comments about Amos Doyle
Freedom, God's Unspoken Word
One day I spied upon the gate
A yellow canary in his prime,
Through some mishap or act of fate
He 'scaped his cage before the time
Of Honeysuckle, Rose and purple Columbine.
Against the blue he rose on high
To frost the tops of stone gray Elms.
He spread his wings to mount the sky
Invading Jay and Redbird Realms
From which he quickly fled
To a low slung power line.
I wondered if this golden flyer
Had found that life was sweeter free
Or was a cage his one desire,
His song unheard except by me
And chance observers at my sill.