NIGHT IN THE CELL HOUSE

Tier over tier they rise to dizzy height —

The cells of men who know the world no more.

Silence intense from ceiling to the floor;

While through the window gleams a lone blue light

Which stabs the dark immensity of night.

Felt shod and ghostly like a shade of yore,

The guard comes shuffling down the corridor;

His key-ring jingles... and he glides from sight.

Oh, to forget the prison and its scars,

And face the breeze where ocean meets the land;

To watch the foam-crests dance with silver stars,

While long green waves come tumbling on the sand...

My brow is hot against the icy bars;

There is the smell of iron on my hand.