August 4, 2008
By Sabrina Ruiz, Portland, OR

An inner fire dances
Within your eyes.
I loathe to leave things to chances
But flames continue to flicker beneath blue skies.

A wolf snarls at the door
Golden eyes wise beyond age.
It chills me to the core
As you gaze at me from behind the bars of a cage.

A cougar puases on this barren mountain
With a feral grace that belies power.
Your faulty wisom comes from a fountain
And I flinch, for it will cower.

An eagle sweep the sky
Its stare challenging and proud.
So high, so high I could fly
But you cluster and crowd.

And all I ask
Forget it not!
It should not be a task
Do not regard as a trap in which you are caught.

For it is not true, there is a hitch
I struggle and founder.
You are the foul mud which
Holds me frantic and a-flutter.

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