Jail Bird

I knew a scarlet bird in jaguar patterned pants.

It flew through the prison fence with ease, and skill.

I knew a scarlet colored bird in striped slacks.

It flew out a window with some trouble, but willfully.

I knew a scarlet bird in a blanket of admiration.

It flew into the sun for the last time, in tatered cloths.

I will always know my scarlet colored bird.

But I did not fallow it to the sun.