Here they find muddled water
Here the dangers are mitigated
The hunted and the haunted are harbored
Here there is food enough to get fat
Here there are idle moments to pluck and preen
The climate is moderated all is mostly mundane
Here they can brood and clutch and offspring
Here they have time to learn about staying in line
The training is tantamount to unforeseen trials
Here there are open spaces in plain sight
Here there are familiar places well hidden
The peace this place produces is predatory
Here there is no escape from truth
Here the shadows linger becoming proverbial
The birdsong at daybreak belies the banality
Here they return again and again
Here they build habits and instinctual homing
The devices employed here betray our despair | JM
I find a curious ambiguity in this piece, probably because I have never been incarcerated, and so do not really understand. The alliteration adds emphasis. There is hope in the words. And yet the ducks come back. There is a lot to consider. Well done.