Mine is the hand which finds you
Mine is the hand which takes you
Mine is the hand which makes you
Mine is the hand with the eye
Mine is the hand with the eye
Sure, when opportunity knocked
I answered the door
But opportunity doesn’t always knock
Sometimes, I just leave the comfort of my own home
Time for new growth
On naked branches
Spring is come
Sometimes
That
Is all
I need
We create spaces
Walk away from them
Return, re-visit, renovate
We take what was
And make of it
Something else
Whether for utility
Or a statement
What could say autumn more
With such spare beauty
And somber solitude?
The leaves turn colours
Unimaginable
Lighting mountainsides on fire
Reflecting on
The inmate’s time here
Brings me sadness
It lead to a window
Which would not open
And I could not see through
As much as I preferred
Being in the light
I returned to the darkness