The Lifer Poem by Frank Halliwell

The accused stands, impassive,
just staring past the bars,
at dark blue sky, and fluffy clouds,
and the first faint evening stars.

Kookaburras chuckle softly,
from an old and gnarled ghost gum,
tuning up, in preparation
for the bedlam, soon to come!

Swift shadows in the deepening dusk
as flying foxes fill the air,
a squabble or two and they're off again,
they come from whence, and go to where?

The turnkey sweeps into the room
and snuffs out the last light.
The bars dissolve into the gloom
of an arbitrary night.
* * *
A raucous screeching high above...
Flashes of rose in the morning sun,
as a hundred galahs dive and wheel
and start off on a long days fun!

The prisoner stares out through the bars.
The sentence, in full measure:
'Life in solitary, with no parole! '
At grandma and grandpa's pleasure.

The lifer contemplates his sins
and his most heinous crime,
He paused to rest in the wrong place,
and stayed too long a time!

The other crime was being
a pleasure to the eyes,
of wearing a fine coloured coat
with luminescent dyes.

The lifer stares out through the bars,
he may not go where we go.
A loss of kith, and kin, and kind,
to satisfy an ego.

The lifer stands, impassive,
just staring past the bars.
At dark blue sky and fluffy clouds,
and the first faint evening stars.

The jailer swept into the room,
covered the cage and said,
'Now, cocky.., pretty cockatoo...
It's time to go to bed! '