Fly Away

Fly Away


I’m outta here.
He walked to the edge of the branch, raised his wings and lifted off.
She wasn’t worried.

This was a pattern she had come to know and ceased to fight.
He needed to go for a fly.
Good.
Get out, she used to say in a tone of condemnation.
Now though, she said the same words.
But now, there was love and understanding
Now there was love and tolerance for his complexities.
The feeling of entrapment had to be thrown off.
She was no longer in possession of the shackles, she had in frustration used.
No. She had thrown those out.

Taken the burden of fear off herself.
Taken the shackles of guilt and tossed them in the lake.



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