Isolation
by Simon Cockle
Wed 3rd Feb 2016

This cell is
a forestcontained by
a prison shadows are
incubated
roots,
a mesh
of sleek bars,
cloaking half
the world
in darkness
here
the infected
converse with
their sepsis
but the mind
cannot be
quarantined
draw your nails
across the
partition
and brick dust
falls asleaves;
a memory
of winter