Hostage

Feeling like a hostage no matter
who is holding you captive
is still a lack of freedom.
TV shows and baked goods pass the time
while an array of wild birds prance
and feast on the front porch.
Nonstop cold powdery stuff, their captor
covered outdoors providing refuge.
Inches continue to pile up
blinded by pervasive brightness
people like specs in the middle
of a white winterland trying to
forge a path to freedom.
Stoves simmering with hot soup
to replenish inner warmth
stolen, forced out, by blustery winds.
Long gone is grass, or anything green
so long as we remain buried alive
beneath endless falling inches of
Mother Nature's assurance that
global warming is no imminent threat.