FREEDOM'S SON

By edenbray

The dumber dark sod of a creamier winter than I remember ~

Of the naked trail of me and my girl looking down on the moving town

We were restless and nieve or dancing stock full of Blake's innocence

I coulda' cupped her breast in my flickering grasp or pressed warm lips against hers

But I heard the voice of people's talking and the scant blue sky rolled its eye

We frolicked then with freedom as lambs, leaves and kites are prone to do

Determined and resolute in a still-born manner, I transgressed that sodden snow

Yet who then listens to logic worn or brittle-bone speeches, incantations

from empty spell wizards with cavernous heads and small grey eyes?

We have been born with a vision like wet clay on a soldiers bloodied boot

We can again shape a madonna smile, naked infants belly and a bakers brick oven all

Where then will we put so many failed dreams if not to be within our care-worn hearts?

Where indeed is the mothers experience when relationships die and the second son

is now the only one bothered or angry to break his silence, his heart and cry?

Fourteen years is a lifetime when you're still yearning to fly forward

yet in the dredged plumes of grey-bird smoke that trails so many lives

there is always a gnawing monster who follows every precious step

aims to catch and pin every sun-gold memory like laurel-stained butterflies

and travels like a steaming train through landscapes loving, burned or swollen

The liberty bell still ringing draws the people from their church

where an army of small coloured children are singing and clapping happy hello's.


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