On the Wing: Poetry and Art by Women in the Louisiana Correctional Institute for Women
Illustration by Meg Crocker Birmingham
This article originally appeared in Southern Exposure Vol. 10 No. 2, "Stepping Stones." Find more from that issue here.
“On the Wing” is taken from a book of poems, vignettes and art of the same name produced by women in the Louisiana Correctional Institute for Women. All the writers were participants in a 13- week creative writing course taught by Karen L. Jaeckel and sponsored by the Women's Advocacy Bureau of the Department of Human Resources.
The Only Question
Scientists claim the
polar ice caps are shifting,
turning land sideways and
blue oceans into lakes of
turmoil. The only escape
seems to be in flight – not
across land, as we used to know
it, but into the atmosphere,
like the birds around us. The
only question is – where?
Toni Hayes
First Fish of the Day
Sometimes I feel like my
eyes, my legs, my arms, my
whole body is imprisoned in
stone. Grey stone. My mind
is all that’s free.
I imagine I’m at my
favorite spot on the Bayou
Bank. I concentrate on my
line, hoping to catch my first
fish of the day.
I am at peace.
Carol Phillips
The LCIW Education Trailer
(Emulation of Elizabeth Bishop’s
“Visits to St. Elizabeth”)
This is the trailer
left for uselessness
with no logical reason
This is the trailer
left for uselessness
for no logical reason
one day opened
This is the trailer
left for uselessness
for no logical reason
one day opened
to shed some light
upon living people
who at times appear DEAD!
Lisa Saitzman
The LCIW Education Trailer
(Emulation of Elizabeth Bishop’s
“Visits to St. Elizabeth”)
This is the trailer that sits
on top of state property
beneath which thousands of
dead Indian warriors are said
to lie.
This is the trailer that sits
on top of state property
beneath which thousands of
dead Indian warriors are said
to lie, within which sit many
souls who anticipate seeing the
outside walls and dread walking
back down the lonesome halls.
This is the trailer that sits
on top of state property
beneath which thousands of
dead warriors are said
to lie, within which sit many
souls who anticipate seeing the
outside walls and dread walking
back down the same lonesome
halls that lead to a room, a
four-cornered room that crowds
minds with memories of yester-
years, the mistakes, the ups
the downs the laughter the
frowns.
This is the trailer that sits
on top of state property
beneath which thousands of
dead Indian warriors are said
to lie, within which sit
many souls who anticipate
seeing the outside walls and
dread walking back down the
same lonesome halls that lead
to a room, a four-cornered
room that crowds minds with
memories of yester-years, the
laughter, the tears, the ups
the downs the smiles the frowns
the empty souls longing
to find their way back to
society’s crowds.
Carolyn Wyatt