Notes from Exile: An Apology
Log/Verse: daily reflections from prison, written every morning at my bunk. Part poem, part log book.
Yesterday, in Justice Notes, I reflected on the difficulty of offering apologies—how they can so easily miss their mark, or even cause more harm than healing. Tonight, for Log/Verse, I want to share a poem I wrote in prison: an apology to a friend, one I never managed to fully deliver in person. It’s called SHERMAN.
SHERMAN
Many times I almost opened to you,
those regular lunches we both savored
and treasured like lifesaving gatherings,
which they were to us, each in our own
despairing.
You disclosed yours to me but I declined,
much to our collective demise, although
in different ways, and then an unforgiveable
betrayal.
I tried to heal your pain but only served you
a final confirmation of your natural belief
in hopelessness of outcomes. No worse sin
than that my friend. Forgiveness muted out
that last day we met and spoke only in
code.
You can read the entire collection of poems, titled A Different Kind of Hell, published by Moonstone Publishing.