Twitch
to think of you
trapped in that prison,
a
penitentiary
of
your own making, walls three feet thick,
barriers
twelve
feet high. I see glimpses of the person
you
once were,
only
visible for a moment at daybreak,
and
then
again
at dusk for no more than a flicker.
The
rest
of
the time you remain perfectly hidden,
camouflaged
between
the audacious ferns and the bold California palms.
No
sign is given,
no
misery revealed, but for the tell-tale twitch,
observed
only
by me, forever situated just below your right eye.
~~~
First published in Miller's Pond Poetry Magazine / Spring 2014
