"Welcome home," he could barely read, standing
Motionless at the Gate, look to left and right
To see the rows of slatted windows stare
Vacantly into night with broken teeth.
There’s history here he thinks as he crosses
The threshold with a waving flashlight, as
A criminal looking for a hide-out:
“My little brother had a serious
Bout of something no one could understand
But the doctors, I curse names I should praise.”
He moved carefully, into the cellblock,
Behind the abandoned nurses’ station.
Outside Cell 1, he learned he would need
Keys, which he doubled back and found,
“How safe from the authorities I am here,
And even the public, so few come by.”
When he sank his tired body down on
A filthy mattress, he knew that he had
Found a place to crash for the night without
Any kind of disruption, so he did.
__________
Copyright 2023 Jeffrey Merk
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