I step out into the pale February air
Of mid afternoon,
Beneath this dull and weeping sky.
The first thing I notice
In the courtyard
Is the concrete slab
Networked by rainwater stains,
Dark and arterial;
Like a web of veins
Searching for their way back home
Toward a warm and caring heart.

I tiptoe through a spattering of puddles
Watching my grey reflection,
Like a well defined shadow,
Peering up at me
So lost and alone.
The glittering steel backdrop
Of the cage above
Flickers with surreality
Across the surface of the water
As it is breaking beneath my feet.

Running my hand along the stone wall
Sounds a bit like wind
Rushing off the back of a jet plane,
Hollow and whistling from my palm
Across the smooth terrain;
My fingertips pausing
Only to linger on the pocked and marred and patched-up parts,
As if only to admire their stoic imperfections
And to kiss their milultitude of wounds and scars.

The walls here reach higher than any  of us could ever hope to climb alone.
The architecture is cold and sterile
And unforgiving in it's practicality.
Large beads of water gather in the corners of the fixtures
From sixty feet above
Only to come crashing down upon my cheekbones
With the heaviest and mist sickening of "splats".

I shake them off like an iris shedding the first round of morning dew,
Then I plant myself under the eaves
In the only square foot of dry ground in view.
Sitting quietly, with closed eyes,
I listen to the variable thicknesses of each falling raindrop,
Contemplating the many different tones
As some collide with the puddles
And others burst among the bricks.

Through the thin, spidery membrane of my eyelids
I sense a shift in the overhead lighting,
Just in time to spot a silver lining
As a rogue beam of light
Pushes through a soft spot in the clouds.
I inhale the earthy scent
Of dirt and freshly mopped sidewalks
While I marvel at just how precisely
His eyes, at times,
Can match the exact shade of this mid winter sky.

With a sigh and and an undetectable shudder,
A little smile crosses my lips,
And I long for nothing more than to be embraced by his arms of steel.
The love I feel with him seems much mightier than any prison fortress...
And I,
Held captive by it's institution,
Gracefully accept my position,
And find that it is one
I am all too willing too endure.