Poetry

I am sharing poetry today. This is poetry that has been written by an inmate in the Arizona Department of Corrections.

Gordon Grilz committed a crime of passion, for lack of a better term. He came home from work early one day and found his wife in bed with another man. He pulled a gun from the dresser and shot and killed them both. He is serving a life sentence. 

I am not making a comment or commentary on the crime. I am simply, purely sharing the words of this man. For all intents and purposes, this poem reads like a prayer in my humble opinion. 

Wishing you everyday grace,

~Tamara

Ghosts of Camacho Hill
by Gordon Grilz

Camacho Hill is the name prisoners have given to the cemetery at the Arizona State Prison at Florence

In predawn light
air thick with creosote and sage
coyotes assemble on the ridge
above the graves
camp dogs
singing their mourning song
of a thousand years

Dust devils dance on the graves
under a Sonoran summer sun
spirits ascend
in a sandy whirlwind
vultures ride the rising thermals
waiting

When the western sky has blossomed
scarlet and lavender and rose
voices carry
Spanish Navajo English Apache
lost prayers
blown against a chain link fence
in a dust storm

Below a full desert moon
shadows move among white headstones
desperate men
sifting through years
searching for moments
working to redeem
what they threw away with both hands