Never asked but granted release, so I asked myself
to roam, cuffed in song, bars in my eyes from being behind bars
so long.
A convict walking to find a wall.
The pine tree solid, but I could see lines
along which it could fold and folding
be a paper pine to delight a child, rooted in the child's
hand.
But nearing, the hidden sparrow sang, the crow echoed unseen,
and walking beneath the tree, I found the warden cooing.
The pine drops down its scent.
On me, the whole wonder entraps.
So I ceased, and my mind ceased.
And my mind's method, self-cruel,
self-vaunting, and begged my sentence longer,
bewilderment and patience.