The dream hovers
Where even the senses can't touch it; Separating itself from the mind, It dances upon the moonlit surface, Like art unfathomable in its reach. Rising like the morning mist, Free. Only to disappear somewhere in the vastness. Dancing to the mystic mind Reaching beyond the walls. A poem written whilst in solitary confinement, San Quentin Adjustment Centre. Steve Champion (Adisa Kamara)
3 Comments
Charlotte Stuart
12/16/2017 09:23:07 am
I have the impression that the poem was written over a long period of time, line by line, as the poet waited for the lines to come into existence. This tactic calls for an unusually variety of patience!
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8/9/2018 10:19:25 pm
I have got more objectives about the dream hovers upon the moonlit surface the unfathomable in its reach always. The disappear somewhere in the vastness and interesting technology for beyond the walls.
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Adisa Kamara
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