Some Bright Morning

A story waits.

white owl inside a cage

Against a great sorrow, 

the bowed body wonders, 

which world, now?

Though we could not 

unsee the bars 

they only kept

the fleshed halves

of ourselves 

while the rest 

being story 

tended to fly.

Which world, now?

its witness 

in a narrow cage,



this sky.

Author: Stacey C. Johnson

I keep watch and listen, mostly in dark places.

7 thoughts on “Some Bright Morning”

Leave a Reply