A Reflection on Captivity

Oleg Oprisco

I was thinking about the refugees fleeing from Ethiopia to Sudan when my son said: “I like the way, when a cheetah runs, its ribs move like this…” and he shrugged each shoulder forward slowly one by one – so feline immediately.

I am awed by his observation – this animal’s internal cage and how it visually defines such wild power and natural grace. Not like outward cages.

At the zoo cheetahs sprawl inside the metered march of fence-posts. Their ribs move out and in with the slow puff of time. Nothing to do in captivity but wait…

Waiting is a crumple zone – watch a leaf set adrift from its tree and see how waiting makes it shrivel; watch a soldier’s family wilt with no news; watch a clock stop ticking.

Waiting is powerless. Only the dispossessed and the terrified would choose refugee camps. And yet, our country is so suspicious and pitiless. We draw a line in the soil and demarcate their differences. And then we turn our backs.

And let them wait.

Written for Mindlovemisery's Menagerie Photo Challenge #343

8 thoughts on “A Reflection on Captivity

  1. You know what I think is the most mean spirited part? If any of these poor people actually do get accepted by another country, say New Zealand, they are still forbidden to ever come to Australia. I can’t help wondering why our government thinks they would want to come here if they found a country that actually wanted them.

    Liked by 2 people

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