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