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,
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)
Poetry, writing & Lessons in Life from San Quentin death row