unbound, an etheree poem
I
recall
being small,
but not so small.
Mind was not confined
to adult truisms.
Gravity had naught on me.
My mortal mind was flying free;
wind rushed by, whistling to my child soul,
as long as no adult inflicted truth.
Gods, what harm we do to our children’s minds
seeking only sweet freedom of flight.
How dare we seek to clip those wings
which bring them joy, us no harm!
Once we too flew bright skies.
We do forget youth’s
exuberance,
Earth’s somber
weight on
us.
Wry Welwood
7th of July, 2021
In response to Sky Collection guest prompt by Melissa Coffey,
Meet the Etheree. Melissa was of especial help to this poet navigating the form for the first time.