Freedom - Poem by Leonard Dabydeen
Cold wind pushes against the van
as if it wants to test its silver coating
but I listen carefully to the whooshing sound
no one will listen, anyway, except
my frozen ears like folded strips of bacon.
And as the wheels grind Main Street tarmac
a bird swings in a U-turn, swaying
with the ease and carefree arrogance
one bird wants to show our open world.
This is the freedom I choose
it belongs to me, let alone my van
and a black bird
whose place of abode is far from
the ceramic tiles and oak polished flooring
of my Egyptian sand living room.
Comments about Freedom by Leonard Dabydeen
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You