D. A poem for Damien Echols

If you don’t know who Damien is, look him up. I sent this poem to him years ago, when he was still on death row. As a thank you, he was kind enough to write me a poem in return. I still cherish that letter, along with all the rest of them that I received. We don’t speak anymore, really. Shame, I miss him. But I think I bring back memories of prison, so I don’t begrudge him for moving past it.


One shine crow

tilts and follows.

Oil wings folded

Tight, forward, down.

Hope holds you

In gold sequined feet.

Pull up, black eyes,

and fly.

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