THIEF
By Michael Keshigian

Two days ago
the sun caught me stealing light
to illuminate a poem,

demanded restitution,
then reported me to Mother Nature
who posted my likeness about the land.

Soon, the ocean, forest, birds, flowers, et. al.
filed suit for substantial abuse
and complacent philandering without permission.

I pleaded guilty;
admitted stealing breath from wind
for deliverance,

marshmallows from the sky to sweeten song,
and rage from the ocean
instilling a sense of urgency.

Convicted and confined to a windowless room
no writing, visitation
or glimpses of stolen sights,

I was sentenced to imagine beauty
without embezzlement
and the wholesale exploitation of words.