Bellflower

Trapped in a tower

A blue bird in an ivory cage

Open the cracking oak-crusted hatch

I descend the staircase.

The stairs are as cold as night

Ice biting my feet

Find a rotting door left locked

Beside the stone wall.

Fists folded into balls of fire

Freedom, a second grasp away

I break through the old barracade

And clamber over the scattered brick lintel.

Life flowing through the grooves in my palm

Grass blades between toes

I resist the urge to flee

To stop and stare across the meadow.