Poetry
FORSAKEN
III: Nairobi
Fire lends the stone a flavour:
The setting sun burns itself out on the horizon.
A hand reaches out from between the bars,
Feeling the hot air,
And briefly sensing freedom.
On the other side, blocked by the garnet walls,
A second hand, escaping further with each centimetre.
The fingertips touch. A passer-by, looking upwards
Sees two smiles, illuminated by the falling fire,
Dark faces make bright,
And eyes that convey liberty
From behind the banded walls.