Prison Visit
A man from church no longer free,
In prison now I went to see,
I do not even know the crime,
For which he goes to spend his time.
I only know he and his wife,
Are trying to forge a better life,
In Christ they hold to bear the scars,
Yet torn apart by prison bars.
I missed the man and so one day,
I called before he went away,
Now bound in fate where life befalls,
We meet behind the prison walls.
A lonely walk up to the gate,
To meet the many guards who wait-
Within the fenced topped razor wire,
I’m frisked and checked for right attire.
I finally see him face-to-face,
A handshake and a firm embrace,
The hours fly by; we sit and chat-
Of people, places; this and that.
The time now comes that I must go,
He says one thing he’d like to know,
He hopes I’ll visit soon again,
Perhaps next week; farewell ‘til then.
Quite soon I’m in the car to ride,
With gorgeous view the countryside,
And, think of him with thoughts that he,
One day unbound and finally free!
Peter Lowell Paulson
August 20, 2016