Ode to the Man inside and the Letter he will not get because he was transferred to a new prison on Tuesday last
for E.O., for his family, for all inside~
with thanks to the poet Issa Kobayashi, for this world of dew
He who they said did
what he did not do
He who lost world and life and home
myth of freedom too
Who was brother and son and father
all the roles he once knew
He who lives in cage
for what he didn’t do
Redwhite bars, broken promise, false accuse,
and skin: what it all came down to
More than two years in
I finally write to you
Spin story, sing verse in inks bright
like morning dew
The losses you’ve borne
now this one too
All the innocence we’ve lost:
now this loss too
The truth? That letter
may never find you
My small offering,
small through and through
winds through concrete maze
imprisoned now too
Just like all the things we’ve
taken from you
This, just one more,
nothing new
And yet, and yet—
in this world of dew
we learn and learn again,
us hapless fools
not a thing is promised: not justice, not release, not freedom—
all this we surrender too
But know this now—
it may be true:
those words
were not just meant for you
They spun story, hope, poem
and awareness too:
that yours would not be the only
eyes for whom they blew
light scatter of hope
cast across ephemeral page, dust and dew
Perhaps—could it be?
Someone needs them more than you.
By Hazel Kight Witham
Biography:
Hazel Kight Witham is a writer, teacher, activist, and artist whose work can be found in Bellevue Literary Review, Two Hawks Quarterly, Rising Phoenix Review, Angels Flight, Zoetic Press’s NonBinary Review, Lunch Ticket and Lady/Liberty/Lit. She lives and breathes in Los Angeles with her family.
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