She had a thought: that sky was true,
That sky was blue as eyes, as deep
As weeping in a loveless home:
Not cold, but crystalline it shone.
She had a thought: those lines were meant
As purpose, point and route to run,
Another means to fake escape,
Until the next direction pulled.
She had a thought: of someone trapped
As everybody else was trapped,
But who would see her questions asked,
By fists she formed as stations passed.
Her music played, the sky was sky,
She had a thought and let it die.
This poem was written as a response to the photograph by artist Cheryl Garner. It is part of an on-going collaboration.
The photographs, with poems, can be found at:
the work of Cheryl Garner can be found at: