we may be free from the imprisonment of the metal wires,but the shadows impose an unsettling incarceration all their own,shifting,twisting,weaving the unutterable grammar of the existential sentence we all find ourselves serving. Suddenly,we are the trapped eyes pacing about'the constantly passing bars' of Rainer Maria Rilke's famous poem'the panther'.'It seems to him',the poet writes of the wretched beast' there are/a thousand bar;and behind the bars,no world.'