The naked snow slouched
serenely through the crystal-cold canvas
of my well-weathered window.
The Artist’s sky today was
painted battleship gray
though brightly lit without shadowing.
Frozen in place
Frozen in time
Frozen in temperature.
Handprints on the glass
forensic evidence of many moments spent
silently watching the world wander by.
Viewing the outside from within
trying to revisit my old world through
scratched panes of bullet-proof glass.
Prison’s Virtual Reality.
Disclaimer: The views in this article are those of the author. Prison Journalism Project has verified the writer’s identity and basic facts such as the names of institutions mentioned.