i heard from my grandfather
stories of trees
branches
flowers
and even telephone wires
flocks that flew together
over streaming rivers
swooping down
one at a time
toward schools of fish
tales of migration
north and south
he told me of those
whose feathers had changed
and those whose songs echoed
in the wind
i don't know if his stories were true
but i hope they were
and because of those
stories
i often dream of a day when
we will fly out from this cage
and be the birds
we were always meant to be
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