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Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

                                              The Boy in White

He paused in the sun, unsure where to go
His uniform was new and neatly pressed
He carried a new blue mattress and two plastic bags
Containing his prison issue for the next three years

No guards were near so I talked with him
I didn’t ask him; he wanted to be heard
He told me his story; it might be true
And then
Authority told me to move on. I wished him well

He was paused in life, unsure what to do
A frightened teenager in new prison whites
Prison
pick a word, let it lead you astray, then (soil)


a poem to exclaim, refracting the sun rays emerging
from the curves of your chested heart, the waggle of
ten fingers conducting your inner song, the baton first
waved swipe to earth pointing, let us commence there:

think of yourself, entirety, as soil, you the potter,
what has been planted by others, nourished by others,
along sides of your ingestions, you the grower, seeded
anew, each word, hybrid edging with existing vocabularies

the sun from without, the sun from within, the rivulets
of water, the arterial pathways, feed the treasure chest,
and you, farmer, planter, grower, picker, plucker of the
produce, serve us, baskets grown on the fruited plain of

poems’ soil consisting of the writings grown in the
unique you,
all of you,
body & soul
“hey.. yes, trying to get some things updated around here… now... so sorry for the outage! but things should be tip top now.. still ironing out a few kinks though
Regards”
What have I gained?
What have I tossed?
What has been the actual cost?
All of this pain
A heart of frost
None of it worth what has been lost

©2024
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