Sing “The Trembling Jailer”,
“The Trembling Jailer”, when you rattle your bonds.
When you pine to put your hands on the face of the moon,
to rake your nails through the soft moon-dust,
swirling pillows, concentric, blushless;
at rest above all vanes, the steeples,
from sympathy,
sing “The Trembling Jailer”.
-2003
