I thought I was in a forest but there were no birds and no trees, only the long shadows of the bars in my cage. I walk for miles without leaving my cell: the cellphone in my pocket makes sure of that. Beyond the visible bars are the stronger, invisible ones, guarded by angels and demons. But any noise a voice box can make is no match for the average syrinx, whether of a wood thrush or a bittern: the dinosaurs that escaped extinction have a laugh for every cry and a cry for every laugh. It was they who guided us when it mattered, not that supple bride the soul. They whose annual return from another world made us leave room for the miraculous.
I thought I was in a forest again but it was only people with their fists in the air. They swayed in a wind that didn’t speak English and fell in a rain of bombs. I plant myself in a likely sidewalk crack and dedicate the rest of my life to wordless prayer.
OTHER POSTS IN THE SERIES
- A Week of Kindness
- Herbaceous
- Crushed
- Breast Man
- Manic Pixie Dream Consultant
- Lord of Misrule
- Lilium martagon
- Cat Person
- Escape Artist
- Provincial
- Black site
- Love Machine
- Lionheart
- The Song of the Womb
- Fallen Woman
- Postmortem
- Floating World (Ukiyo)
- Insomniac’s Revenge
- Travel Anxiety
- What Does the Shadow Know?
- Exile
- Desecration
- Bubbly
- The Comeback Kid
- Outside-in
- Sequestered
- White Lady
- Invested
- Mater
- Blow
- Submission
- Biofeedback
- Public Servant
- Executive
- Specialist
- Officialdom
- Prayer Warriors
- Bitter End
- Riparian
- Cabaret
- Accommodation
- Treedom
- Livid
- Flood Watch
- Iemanja
- Imprisoned
- Downward Mobility
- Sirenity
- Somniloquy
- Master Debaters
- Helene