Freedom's Just Out My Window

[Bianca Alabaster]

< Poem written by me in a male persona.>

Freedom’s Just Out My Window

Feels like death row
stale air of hundreds near
closed in a cell near a window
my home for the tenth year

Noise so loud from all
the hundred voices and
guards yelling, cat calls
bars slamming – constant clangs

Concentrate, I must make
silence, or I will go mad
slowly, the quiet – mine to take
breathing, yes, peace is had

Listening now to the sounds
out the window, blowing
sweetly into my ears – wow;
distinct, click-clack on-going..

Women’s high heels, it must be!
tapping on the sidewalk
as she walks just below me
breathless, stricken, I can’t talk.

I inhale deeply to try and
catch her scent of perfume
I smell her hair and sigh
- my cell becomes our room.


© 3/24/2010

** I visit a prison that has "closed custody lifers" in it. I was walking on the sidewalk one day and a lady in front of me was wearing high heels. I wondered if the guys could hear her, because I can hear them through the window. I put my head inside a mans... or tried to anyways... I really saw "him" craving to smell her, wanting to see her with his imagination and be with her...