1973 School Magazine

THE CONVICT Alone, In a cubicle, The four walls damp and bme,. The floor of cold sun4ried bricks, .4 bench for a bed, a bhnket as covers, And a small window, with bars. The silence drives you to mndness, The whips into a frenzy, The ranging rope, to death.

IWRISONED. To set my heel on anonymous blistered stone push awaY bend the bar melt the mortar. To pick the singing silence aching darkness shntter the blnck, black face. To putl slices of slcy through the needle's eye sluice the light to rinse rubbed wrinkled senses. To paint my pain on the braided bick familiar foetid air fracture the frozen line, To float soar - even crash. ''1 '' But to crash on the blind beckoning earth, Outside. Pam van de Hoef 68.

Anne Simmo.nds4A

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