Free? To What Degree?

I looked up from the stack,
needing to put spoken words in the back.
There he was sitting quietly, up and out of the way,
for such a young one, not really much to say.

First thing that caught my eye were the braces attached to his shoes,
traveled to his knees, right below his denim blues.
A book lay in his lap, our eyes did meet,
as he watched me write on a small white sheet.

His feet didn’t touch the ground,
that chair a bit large for the young boy,
but as I watched him taking in the life around
my mind did employ.

I wonder what he thought of those who walk unaided,
Is being “normal” overrated?
A gesture from someone who looked a lot like he
both feet on the ground, no longer, hands free.

I hadn’t noticed the rest of him there,
lying on the floor right beside that oversized chair.
His feet lightly stepped with the assistance of two more,
bringing a total of four feet on the floor.

He was across the room as quick as could be,
his voice chattered with anxiousness
The next room brought a sight of freedom
To some degree.

He entered the next room,
as I watched through the doors,
birds that could talk and fly around,
making an unusually loud squawking sound.

Not allowed to fly without some assistance,
but freedom came without resistance.
Both boy and birds flew across the room as quick as could be
Feet off the ground, hands free.


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