Poem: Golden Fetters, Diamond Shackles

Golden Fetters, Diamond Shackles

Self-imposed, this intellectual oubliette
on this beautiful San Francisco afternoon,
the rumbling of the municipal railway
rattling my teacup as I steep myself
in those wonders that happen between week two
and week three of embryonic development,
book open, test impending, sleeplessness
streaked across my forehead.
The sunlight dances on retreating puddles,
evidence of last night’s thunderstorms
which have swept the dust and fog away,
and the dogs passing by wag their tails.
The world full of golden fetters, diamond shackles
that I yearn to shed, freeing this medical anchorite,
if only to feel the sweep of the shops downtown
the slap of the running grass in the park.