To the small child lost
In the neighborhood,
It’s not much comfort
To say that Dante
Got lost in the woods,
But for some reason,
Poets in prison
Do take some comfort
In poems from prisons,
Maybe since, for them,
It’s not just lostness,
Not just prisoners’
Shared experience,
But knowing now poems
Hide ways to go home.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.