While existing behind the bars of hate, fright, and constraint,
living mindfully amidst the chaos.

Free my soul from your eyes
With full of hatred it cries
Free my heart with a space
With a full stop to chase
Free me completely from you
With a liberty to choose new !

It's  raining.
What  a  lovely  morning
after  all  that  sun.
The  Mallard  ducks  are  out.
I  can  breathe  again..
It  became  too  warm.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.

People've always
called me a
bird,
but I don't sing
for song's sake
or inspire

I go south
for the
summer, predictably
human
   and instinctively
drawn to
fire