Inside A poem for prisoners Interior sounds clang back and forth unable to escape walls contained by more walls callous, concrete, obdurate built to remind insiders of their lovelessness outside you are, moving softly smoothing the pillow on your bed placing a woven mat under your bowl to spare the wooden table pouring orange juice sun through the open window touching your shoulder I remember running and the smell of summer grass my body was my own I breathed in the blue of the sky and spoke it to you if I were allowed a sharp implement I’d cut a piece of sky somehow find some way to smuggle it to you you would laugh your wide laugh wrap it around a cloud of raindrops But don’t send it back in here send me the scent of your hair and thoughts as wild as horses used to be. --Louise Rill 2003
Posted on: Sat, 13 Jul 2013 19:30:56 +0000