Comfortable and hated
all the same,
this cocoon,
constructed of past
transgressions,
with hopes
of more to come.
Meant to be
a house of transformation,
like tossing a coin
in a well
with the expectation
your wish will come to fruition
by a coin sitting
at the bottom
of a well
waiting to be collected
by a drunk for beer money
paid for by hopes of change,
dreams of a brighter future,
the wish for the transformation
of an offering
into something greater.
Change comes natural
with time,
everything changes,
every day a day closer
to death,
a day closer to change.
Has my concrete cocoon changed me?
Or is it just the
aging process
that has given me
my beautiful wings,
colored with life’s
highs and lows?
Am I now a butterfly,
transformed by my concrete cocoon
or time?
Will my wings carry me
to something greater?
Or do concrete cocoons
produce cement
butterflies,
grounded for life,
a beautiful exterior,
a hardened interior.
Cement wings don’t beat,
and concrete butterflies
don’t fly,
but fortunate fields
do call.
ABOUT THE WRITER. Robert Neibler is a poet, and although we don’t hear from him often, I am happy to share his work here. It is exciting to watch someone grow and push themselves as a writer, and Robert hopes to one day compile a book of poetry. Mr. Neibler can be contacted at:
Robert Neibler #399870
Baraga Correctional Facility
13924 Wadaga Road
Baraga, MI 49908
