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Freedom and the Inmate


He saw the marina
(its flowing bounty
flittering gracefully, lapping laps
in the lazy days of Summer)
with an obstructed view,
through bars of cerulean blue.


He recognized her freedom
(taking whole liberties
swaying in the stormy wind, clapping mad
in the gusty ways of Fall)
like through the eyes of a faraway lark…


and just to be free
(with teeth laughing, gapped)
in the grasp
of that graceful marina lake,
floating on her crested breast
like an infant
with his Mama: Free.


Free like the faraway lark
and her embodiment of sovereignty...


Free. Just free!

Written by Jacquii Cooke

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