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Tuesday, June 8, 2010

A Recurrent Journey

Friday we plan a trip to see Alton,
Way up by the Georgia line,
A four hour trip of road and speed,
Rest stops and sun among the trees--
It will be a joy so see our son,
Yet a little sadness will cloud the fun,
For razor sharp fences and steel doors,
Make severe security number one,
A gated community without the glitz,
Fortified to keep inmates in, the public out,
--A twisted haven that chills the marrow,
For the service of prisons is an old, old story.

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