It is not that these women
Number among her friends
She guards her heart fiercely
Discloses very seldom
In an abundance of caution
Holds heartaches, fears and sorrows
Tucked beneath her scrubs
Hidden under loose-smocked shirt
Alongside a banana
Secreted from breakfast
Where she shared a brief exchange
With another early-morning eater
A prison conversation
Of rules, annoyances and transitions
Endless reiterations of
All the carbon-copied discussions
That happen in this place.
Hidden silent and camouflaged
Underneath these superficialities
Lurk whispering spirits
Brushing against her skin
They hint at commonalities
Potential points of intersection
Nexi of connections
Broader, perhaps, or deeper
Than guard idiosyncracies
Inmate furious frivolities
Prison food faux delicacies
Nearly imperceptible beneath
Perpetual cacophony.
Perceptual distortion or
Tricks of a starving soul?
Indistinguishable as a hummingbird’s
Individual flap of wing
From the flurried movement blur
Floats of glimmer of potential
Comaraderie that could develop
Were she not moving on.
Congregating with the host
A thousand other hauntings
She feels the goose-pimpling presence
Of new and sorrowful ghosts
Friendships that might have been