Liberation

by Ethel Mortenson Davis

An old man leaves
a federal prison,
free at last.
He has spent
most of his life
behind bars
for a crime
he did not commit.

The air is as sweet
as any he has known.
He steps into freedom.

This morning
a white butterfly,
with black accents
I could not identify,
was caught in a spider’s web.

I pulled him from
his bondage.
He was still alive
and eager to fly.

He flew into the forest
rich with oxygen,
a freedom he had thought
would never again be his.

And there in the sundrenched trees
he became giddy
on pulsing, cooling waves of air.

3 Comments

Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, poems, Poetry

3 responses to “Liberation

  1. I like the story you tell here Ethel, but equally I appreciate the cadences: the lines seem to rise and fall, rhythmically.

  2. Love the comparison here Ethel. And as John said above, the cadence too x

  3. If only it were possible to free every being wrongly entangled. If only we had the capacity to always discern what was right and what was wrong.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s