Cage

In a world of loss 
     gratitude is what  
          I demand for keeping  
     precious catch 
within my reach. 
     No one despises  
          the shepherd for 
     collecting his flock.  
No one accuses  
     the watchman of  
          making a captive  
     of his charge. 
I’m like a holster,  
     or sheath, all function  
          and no fury. Don’t  
     you worry as I  
swallow you whole. Those  
     ulcers in my gut  
          are only windows, 
     the stoma punched  
in my throat is just  
     a keyhole. Don’t be shy. 
          Hand me the rattle  
     of your aching heart 
 and I’ll cradle you,  
     bird with broken wing.  
          Let me love you. I 
     will hold your brittle  
bones together. I’ll  
     unclasp your beak 
         so you can sing. 
     It’s a world of always  
leaving but here 
     you can always stay.