Bird Cage

Bird Cage

 

Walking backwards,

in grains of sand,

endlessly looking

for just the rite reasons,

settled,

in bottles of fine wine.

 

Slipping on my shoes

one at a time,

like putting on a smile,

when memories

of churning butter,

skip through

a rocky past.

 

I have eaten the bread,

and spat it on the ground.

 

And in the morning,

genuine in my

reflection,

spirited by

moving forward,

and the prize

waiting at the end.

 

Yet it will take time,

to cage this bird.