In Response to Maya Angelou
A Poem by Brigid Cooley
She knows why the caged bird sings,
and I know what it's like to have clipped wings.
I could pull myself up, but I need a breeze,
So please go on and breathe on for me.
My wings are stiff and sometimes tired;
Yours are ones to be admired.
I think that you and Atlas conspired
to make the skies your own.
So help me leap off of the roof;
in the clouds, will I find silver-lined truth?
As I'm falling slowly, I won't confuse
New beginnings with the ground.
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