Exodus

He remembers those high dark walls
with barred windows where pale faces
pressed for freedom howling soundlessly
behind the glass high above
the beautiful grounds manicured lawns
scarlet flowers like blood on soil
lost to the impatient patients inside
looking out for one another

now the windows are empty of faces
the gardens grown over the blood
lost to fallen leaves and weeds
he can hear the howling now
on the streets muted by the medicine
of the world weary who look out
of their own barred windows
and pretend it is all right