Angel Island

Confined in a building day in, day out,
                                 their freedom was withheld; they couldn’t bear it 
                               not a soul was even close to happy even though safe
                               every individual was depressed, and sleep was slow in coming 
                            The days were lengthy and unfilled; their dismal outlook was not dismissed
                           The hours of darkness were long and the pillows chilly; After going through                 
                          such aloneness and sadness, Why go on living without faith?

                        The island of angels had many man made things from boxes with windows
                      and tubes that went boom when blowing out smoke to a large wooden dock
                    which even the Miwok hunters and fishers never knew of when the expansive
                    island was still empty and its beauty undisturbed, the magnificent bay full of fish
                                      
                 Today the island is still beautiful and very peaceful but exclusively occupied 
                 and the coves open to sail boats many of which are tourists or picnickers who
                 Appreciate the scenery along with the peace and quiet of the bay but what is peace
                Without the serenity of this island called Angel?
Copyright © | Year Posted 2025

Poem

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