The other day I was speaking with an offender who has been in solitary isolation in one institution or another for more than three decades. I’ve known him for 11 years. Here is my poetic reflection on the essence of a big portion of our conversation.
“You relate differently, Differently from others I mean.” He was being serious Observant After many years Many years alone In his cell for many years Alone. I replied, “I believe I spend My belief is that I spend Much time while we talk On your side of this door This door that separates us.” (How can I explain The door? How the door is not as real As one might expect Somehow I place myself Through the door On the other side as we talk Through the door This door that separates us.) “Empathy?” he asks. “No. More of a resonance A willingness to enter Your existence Your existence is something To feel I am willing to consider and to feel Your existence Your side of the door.” © 2012 Thomas W. CumminsArchive for May 14th, 2012
This Door That Separates Us
May 14, 2012Fishing At Sunset
May 14, 2012——
Black water, calm wind Sun setting on treetops far Gulls silent above © 2012 Thomas W. Cummins
In a dim light... 