Wing Clipping

She was in shock when she awoke,
Her dreams suggesting bigger things,
For while asleep, she’d flying wings.

At first she thought it was a joke.
This cannot be, her conscience said
Until the truth filled her with dread

And fear embraced her like a cloak.
Afraid to speak or breathe or move,
Imagined all that she could lose--

Her heart’s percussion overtook
And paralyzed with shaking ease,
Cut her, quivering, to her knees,

Berating her. She never spoke.
In silenced moments, never sweet
She’s languishing, cowered and beat.

Kerry has the Real Toads trying out a new (to me, anyway) poetry form: CONSTANZA