It’s been a while since lights were bright and birds took flight

along their southern projection.

They have such lovely schedules, never delayed nor full up for new passengers,

and always punctual.

Their perfect unity inspires trees to shed their memories of the summer dreams

and restart the beautiful cycle.

I sat and considered from my favorite park bench, and then went

to a shop down the street.

My notebook open, and the patrons’ minds closed my pen

danced across the pages.

The birds were breathed into writing and birthed

upon the lines inside.

I had a flash of fear when deciding upon their fate,

to capture them and tie them down.

They follow their breeding and, once captured, stop leaving

with their families.

I am not a prison warden, but I wrap them in cages and guard them

in words and leather binding.

I am sorry to the creatures of innocent involvement and their freedom I’ve taken down.