Captive

A relatively old poem that I am posting tonight simply because I wish to share a bit of myself with this blog today. And of course, the unlikely visitor too! 
Please read and comment if you're here. 
I appreciate criticism and honest ridicule as much as artificial appreciation.
________________________________________________________________________

A poet- captive,

sees the open sky.

Colours of day setting,

the night becoming.

It is evening- a captive too,

of the sun and the moon.

She hears another sing,

without him knowing.

He sings of freedom

Voice a hum, but words clear.

The poet realized-

her poem was free.

She touches the sound,

and hues that surround

fuse, mingle around

bring changes abound.

She senses the motion

But finds no inspiration.

"Perhaps, if I too were free-"

But you see...?

All birds on a wire.