In Silver Fields
There are sundry sharp stones
ankle breakers
and rich earth beneath
life giving
There are many small birds
without a name
dusky brown and dusty grey
What are they?
They swoop and prance in silver fields
razor wire swirl
with avian fever grace
romp and chirp
Chain links are their doorways
steely thresholds
my hand could not pass through
if I tried
This is not their prison
just another place
a happy place of argent light
ardent sunrays
and silver fields
