internee (Zechariah 9:9-12)

from the shadowed
               corner,
   i used to stare
   up at the small
         window set high
      up in the wall,
      waiting for the moon
      to appear (even if
                  only a
                  sliver,
   imagining you were
           keeping an eye
      on me;

for hours on
          end,
   i would stand
   at the door, holdin
      onto the bars
      worn smooth by
      all the hands before
              me,
         waiting for you
         to come by with
         your cart full of
                    books,
   handing me the
           words you knew
      i needed, brushing
         the back of my hand
         with fingers as light
                  as Emily's
                  feathers;

in the early morning,
when even the guard
is too bored to
             notice,
      you tunnel in,
   taking me by the
             hand
   and leading me out
                   to
         where your muster
         of mistfits waits,
     and you swing me
     onto the bowed back
        of that borrowed
        farm animal,
     and we follow
     that route marked

   Hope.

(c) 2014 Thom M. Shuman