He breaks down the door,
rage in his eyes.
Aiming for me but I run.
Years taught me well.
Shoes still on my feet.
Out the window and leap to the ground.
Yelling behind me,
don't look back.
Eyes on the trees,
one foot then the other.
Wish never to go home.
Wind, rain, snow, and sun.
THis path is well known.
It breaks off in different directions.
A glance back, I hear the door.
Run harder
run faster.
The neighbors know,
but they turn away.
I am in the goddess hands,
but when morning comes
it's too late.
I am a fallen stone.
Leap into the air,
born on faith
away, no bird, no angel
just desperation for freedom.
Red and blue lights.
Black bags,
whispers words.
A broken heart they forgot.
And a pair of eyes watch from above.
And forgivness as he is loaded away.
Officers walk in and out,
hear past stories,
known old bruises.
Eyes cast down, shame written.
Down the drive a uniformed man
head hung low.
the help came too late.
No one asked him to come.
Eyes rise to speak to some god,
and feels the weight of freedom.
No longer bound,
no longer beaten.
Arms open taken to flight.
She is wind.
