Feather-Touch
By
Jennifer Angelina Petro

Trapped in seasons of sadness,
I know my longing lacks solvency.
Each new desire rivets the chains
I drag along. With a feather-touch
you could break them should I only
lift them before you. When that day finally
comes, the chains will fall—easy, like
drapery, into something approaching
a circle at my feet, and I will not look back,
as I step from the rusted roundel,
and stumble into your arms.