Letter to Martha by Dennis Brutus

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 In prison

The clouds assume importance

And the birds

With a small space of the sky

Cut off by walls

Of bleak hostility

And pressed upon by hostile authority

The mind turns upwards

When it can

There is no hope

Of seeing the stars

The arcs and fluorescent

Have blotted them out

The complex aeronautics of birds

And their exuberant acrobatics

Become matters of intrigued speculation

And wonderment

Clichés about freedom of birds

And their absolute freedom from care

Become meaningful

And the graceful unimpeding of the clouds

A kind of music, poetry, dance

Sends delicate rhythms tremoring through the flesh

And fantasies course easily through the mind

Where are they going

Where will they dissolve

Will they be seen by those at home

And whom will they delight?