Eight.
I'm afraid of prison, have been all these years.
Afraid they'll take my aspirin away and of other things
as well--
beatings, damp, and cold.
I have my fears.
Unable one day to get up and walk, to do what must be done.
Prison as idea, it fills me with fear,
this exposure to my own weakness at someone else's whim.
I watched that woman go over the barbed wire
fence at the peace encampment.
The wheelchair rider.
I didn't want to do what she did.
I thought they'll get her for this.
I thought we are not such victims.