A Cage To Hold My Dreams
Kelly
There are shapes in the meadow
a man strains to see
and salt tears which bring him
ashamed to his knees.
There's a dog sprinting crazily
off down the lea
and a little girl's laughter
rebounds through the trees.
Kelly goes after rabbits
and imaginery rams
sniffing scents off the wind
as it ruffles his coat
and ahead, in a spinney,
some phantom-white lambs
spring to life at the sounds
which are real in his throat.
The meadow is deserted,
the sheep long since penned
and the little girl's laughter
has died on the breeze.
The man fights through rain
to catch sight of his friend
but the weight of his conscience
Is all that he sees.
Alone in his sadness
through nights without end
he listens to wind
as it ruffles his coat
and ahead, in a thicket,
the ghost of his friend
springs to life at the whistle
which chokes in his throat.
