First-time Prison Visit

Tense stomach.
Which shirt? This one? That?
I settle on a friendly one.
Jeans that don’t grab.
Pin number, drivers license,
money, one-only car key.
Ready. Set. GO.
Squinting at street signs,
watching for landmarks,
then wide-open road.
Trees, cows, fertilizer hills
forever and ever…
And then–there it is:
concrete and barbed wire,
flat and gray and treeless.
I park, check my pockets,
take a breath
and hurry to the entrance.

prison fence

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About boomergirl47

Retired from the University of South Florida. Love reading, writing, hiking, nature, music, birding, puttering around the house and yard, doing things with my grandsons and spending time with my beau on his beautiful 22 acres in north central Florida.
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2 Responses to First-time Prison Visit

  1. Patricia says:

    You are one strong woman!!

    Like

  2. boomergirl47 says:

    This is my poor bro.Wrote it 5 yrs ago. I’ve come a long way, baby! An old pro now.

    Like

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