i don’t claim to set the boundaries on my freedom.

checkpoints tend to become distractions


the trees shapeshift in the night buried deep in the sinking kingdom

frightfully stirring, unconsciously aligning through permeable borders


forwards cowards

onwards or bend backwards


a gripped touch shuffled past emotions, lowering and cowering

concealed by a brash rhythm.  


subtle inclinations shiver your frown

freedom can be locked in a box unruled.

the kingdom with a forgotten crown

and a lonely clown not fooled.


What you made will fade.
Like the sun creating shade.