Poetry | Stories | Photography
A clean prison cell with a television, a bed, and the essentials.
Within the four walls, she waits for innocence to mean something.
When they decided “not guilty”, too much time had passed.
Her husband moved on, and she lost all the possessions she loved.
She leaves alone. Now free.
Condensation moves
My view of the world
Distant trees stand
Distorted by condensation
Wild wind whistling
Rain lashes the outside
Near and far from me
Whistling outside prison
Ceiling light reflection
Raindrops dance in my light
Outside, night creeps slowly
My view reflects only me
Condensation sets in
Rain running down, down
Outside is a dreamland
Rain, wind and whispers
My warm prison is artificial
My view, clear in my reflection
C & K 