Free
By Michael Wayne Hunter
My four plus decades in custody have mostly been on death row or maximum security prison. The past few years I’ve been housed on a medium security facility, allowing more freedom of movement. After breakfast, I scavenge discarded meal trays, fill a plastic bag and head outside. I’m assigned to the Canteen starting at 8am, but my boss doesn’t show ’til 8:30 so I drift.Shaking the bag, birds flock, seagulls are the most aggressive, bullying pigeons. Sparrows are timid, staying perched on chain linked fences circling the yard. I scoop handfuls of bread, flinging them faraway to the seagulls who won’t come close. Pigeons push right up on my feet, so I drop their bits straight down. While the seagulls and pigeons squabble and feed, surreptitiously I toss morsels to the fence where sparrows dart down for their share. When done, the birds explode into the air without a backward glance or a thank you, and I gaze at their intricate group patterns, flowing, wheeling in freedom across the morning sky.
No Comments