Poetry born out of an experience in a youth detention centre |
PRAYER CLOTH Never again will I think to myself ‘It’s an ordinary tie’ But one day, a regular working day That’s exactly all that it was. Narrow grey stripes on a warm maroon weave Conservative, safe, subdued; I took it with less than a passing thought And knotted it round my neck. At the jail, a young fellow calls my name, ‘Hey, Chaplain, what’s happenin’, man? Me? I’m cool, but beginning to sweat Tomorrow’s my day in court. Like, I’ve got this rad, black two piece suit And this slammin’, new white shirt. But I need a tie, a dope red one like yours. How about it, Chap? Say what?’ I smiled as I loosened my clergy type tie, Pulled it from under my collar. He reached out his hand and slipped me some skin; ‘Stay cool, man, you’ll see it again!’ Two days went by, then he knocked on my door Entered, and flopped in a chair. ‘Court went okay, I’ve brought back your tie. Thanks, I don’t need it no more.’ We spent time together, we spoke to the Lord. Encouraged, he went on his way. I looked at the tie lying there on the desk... My tie, but mysteriously, more. For I’ll never be able to wear it again Without praying for that boy, Bluff tough up front, high walls all around And the key to the door - was my tie. |