Westmorland, New Brunswick Poem by Richard Provencher
Westmorland, New Brunswick
A sickness in their eyes.
Hanging fists clench
and unclench
watching my eyes of fear.
I was in the dark and must not
look back he said in the letter,
strong and full of hope.
In the visitor's room I am
afraid, my son.
Come home someday,
little boy in a man's prison.
Monday, September 8, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: despair
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
It is spirit wrenching to have a son in prison. Westmorland is an attached facility to the more controlled Dorchester Penitentiary in Dorchester, New Brunswick. In a poem it is a worthy challenge to write in a succinct way, the passion-loneliness-despair in the eyes of a struggling son. Only prayer can bring peace to everyone.
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11/3/2025 8:11:01 PM # 1.0.0
