Golden Cage

By , Holyoke, MA

Two birds rested on their respectable perches,
With contrasting understandings of a cage and it’s purpose the
First bird had snuggled herself into a cage of gold--
Ruby crested bars and diamonds bright as stars
On the padlock
So unnecessarily locked, for she was comfortable.

The second bird’s cage was rather noticeably inverse it was
Iron and rusted, and imprisonment a curse and she
Was not quite so content as
Not to notice that she
Was not in a home, but a cage.

The first bird’s cage had remarkable grandeur, and she bragged incessantly
To the second bird who
Simply shook her head, despite shrill bluster ignored
The boasting, the crowing, the swank and the gloat
And she
Bid her time
Patiently sat through the rain,
as her iron bars crusted and rusted and flaked
And as days turned to weeks, the second bird sat in wait
For the walls of her iron cage
To disintegrate.

When the rust had fallen like stardust to the cage floor
And the second bird saw her iron imprisonment was no more--
She spread her newly liberated wings and soared--
Soared, soared
Above the cage of gold, diamonds of insecurity
Reflected light and glimmered
From 50 feet
up in the air, and with that fierce breeze breathing life to her face
she could still hear the first bird continue bray
To which she replied, with the softest of grace
“Dear, your cage may be gold
But it’s still just a cage.”

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