Saturday, January 19, 2013

DAY THREE: Prison Diary, January 5, 2013, Solitary Confinement


After awhile, one day becomes much like the others. Most men in solitary try to sleep their time away, but I am not one. I have too much to do, promises to keep. Here is the sestina I wrote, since I had more time to work on it.

A Sestina

by Charles Patrick Norman

He stared out the window through the blind
From afar she watched the sun come up.
Everything happens in order.
In a few hours it won't matter.
She pushed open the gate with her hand.
In some things you'll find that less is more.

She thought she saw movement, then no more.
She wondered how she had been so blind.
She knew he had been just a hired hand.
Why did she feel he had set her up?
It is only mind over matter.
Could he make her obey his order?

He made the call and placed the order.
She turned the knob and took one step more.
I don't want to deal with this matter.
Is love irrational, or just blind?
She entered the room as he looked up.
He touched her cheek with his cool, soft hand.

At deceit you may be an old hand,
But I will keep my thoughts in order.
A glass of wine, dear, might cheer you up.
I can't take your abuse any more.
Do you think I'm that stupid and blind?
You think this is a laughing matter.

She cried. He asked, Now what's the matter?
I believe you have the winning hand.
How can that be when you've robbed me blind?
Don't you care about law and order?
This is good wine. Would you like some more?
She reached for her purse and picked it up.

When she cocked the pistol he spoke up.
This is just a trivial matter.
Perhaps to you, but to me it's more.
She aimed the gun with a shaking hand.
I will not take another order.
For a moment the blast made her blind.

At the knock she looked through the blind, as a voice called, open up.
It was a man with an order; Can you sign for this matter?
She took the wine bottle in hand, and decided on one glass more.


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