Strangeways Poem by K.C. Ford

Under oak and elm and ash,
Spring green grows over grass.
The stem, the bough, the branch, the leaf
restricts the sun as bars a thief.

As prison walls the shade casts down
across the brow, the eyes, the frown
of all the men in fading grey
shuffling through the endless day.

These trees that live the spring to life,
that lift free eyes from grief to hope,
casts the convicts mind in strife,
as thoughts in darkness seeking gropes

a hand to hold, a memory to live,
a reason why caged hearts will cope
with walls and bars and yet survive
when dreams are dreamt and touched with hope.

But bud on branch, and leaf on tree
Reflect the years that yet will be
a passing phase, as feet of thieves
shuffling through the fallen leaves.