The restriction of my view, is beyound
the extent of my walled in cell.
A single window layered with the bars of
my life, restricting my picture of the world,
an my poetic soul.
My outlook of the world changes with the
coming of the seasons. The Greenness of
the Grass, the flightof Birds as they play,
only to pass by my window of the world,
with the coming of a new day.
The daytime brings withit the sight of
rolling Green Hill’s, while the nighttime
brings only the lights of your cars passing,
leaving only a deep felt longing of my
existence in its wake.
This poem was inspired by a view that I had out of a window in my cell several years ago. The prison itself was in eastern Washington, in the desert, and during the Spring things would be a beautiful shad of Green. But when the night would come, I’d see car light’s off in the distance, and they would leave a longing in my heart.
Hoping to hear any comments or, opinions from the people reading my poetry.