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The Glass Looking Into the Kitchen
Oh, how confused you must be
to find yourself in some strange,
confined space. Scared and in pain.
How I wish I could fix up your
broken little body and send you home
where your family is. Where you belong.
How fast you must have been flying
to hurt yourself so badly
against the glass looking into the kitchen.
Your cries pierce through the air and
echo through the trees. I hear them calling back.
I know you can hear them, too.
I wonder what you could have possibly
wanted from inside of my house,
for you had all the freedom that you wanted.
But now, you are confined to this small,
beaten-up brown cardboard box.
I’m afraid you always will be.
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This is an ekphrastic poem on the painting Disintegration by Aleta Rossi-Steward.