Dunes Correctional Facility

A blanket laying, book-reading, lemonade sipper turns a page There is a ghost of sadness in this place shared madness, despair and rage Somewhere in the sandy and dreaded dune convicted breath feels as warm as the month of June She feels the depression that once enveloped a once upon a time, mild-mannered man’s illness Now there is only stillness and something in the Saugatuck breeze that feels like a gasp Old scribbles on his walls of silence seemed, or once was deemed prophetic “I was wasted just like today was” a mother’s son whiled away the time Too forsaken and forgotten to find rhyme abbreviated sighs and another day’s tally mark For him, fate… the future came much too late The unholy hole handed a mother’s son the shivers Her lemonade is coldly soothing sour moments taken in without regrets Moving her toes in the warm sands once tread by a man with invasive demons in his head It is oddly unclear what once happened here. She turns another page long after he could have.