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Jul 2013
We sit in tightly crafted boxes by day
forcing our feral souls to be still.

When we leave our daytime offices
for larger, comfier coffins,
the same spirit we once stifled
rips off its chains of productivity
in favor of a rarefied air full of possibility.

As we soar without any pretension of advancement
we forget that other life that appears with an overly punctual sun.

Through no fault of their own, we fault these day to day doldrums
through bleary red eyes while the true culprit of freedom
waits amongst the thermals until the night breaths anew.
Paul R Mott
Written by
Paul R Mott  Raleigh, NC
(Raleigh, NC)   
     victoria, Emma B, Rob Rutledge and Paul R Mott
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