by Anna-Elise Price
brown irises
swimming in deep white
look up at me
from chocolate skin
young man, a child
uncomfortable yet
with his own emerging body
uncertain yet
of his own emerging mind
caught in a trap
not entirely of his own making
he rages, swears
slams his fist into the table
the guard looks up from his paper
stares a silent warning
the boy retreats to silence
until, eyes downcast now
he whispers
not sure he wants me to hear
"When is my mama gonna come?"
Having proved her liberal credentials by serving three years as a public defender for juveniles, and then a further three at legal aid doing education law, Anna-Elise Price is now studying writing at Eastern Illinois University.
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