It is from birth,
our reference set,
the scene, our outlook, settled view,
and less we see beyond that box,
those borders, fence, determinate.
But should a glance sneak in,
shine in from upper left,
that tunnel vision,
then open is the season’s cure.
Why one relies on rigid bricks,
securely bound, deemed birth-right, tight,
but cell bars next built for escape,
horizon laid to reach beyond?
Encapsulate to sit, wall site,
or spray where corners seem defeat,
subversive on the subway wall,
or model, strand, though tide will wipe?
The sign of life is, always grow,
momentous moment giving way,
so captured art is theme denied –
try Banksy’s frame scrolled through the cut:
too risky dare from comfort zone?
Stephen Kingsnorth (Cambridge M.A., English & Religious Studies), born in London, but retired to Wales, UK, from ministry in the Methodist Church due to Parkinson’s Disease, has had pieces published by on-line poetry sites, printed journals and anthologies, most recently The Sweetycat Press, The Parliament Literary Magazine, Poetry Potion, Grand Little Things, The Poet Magazine, Stone Poetry Journal.