The Sunday visits
Pretty dress on
Hair tied up with
Daisy pins in
Leather shoes
Polished and
She is ready
Ready as a little
Girl is when about
To visit her daddy
Destination reached
Taxi door opens
Heavy for a little girl
Steps out onto the
Bitumen that makes
Scratches on the
Soles of her shoes
That never fade
Her mother’s tight
Hand grip and smile
Is the strength of a
Warrior, championing
Her battles with ferocity
Large steel gate creaks
Silver teeth inside the
Mouth of a security guard
Displays a welcome that
Reminds her of Luna Park
But this is not amusing
It is a freak show
Under the big top of a
Human corrections facility
And the bluestone walls
That travel as high as the
Clouds are the only
Feature that makes
The Sunday visits to
Pentridge exciting
You never get used to it
The annual commute
Watching people wasted
In many untold times
And murmured cries
I return to the bed
Of hard familiarity
Faking my smiles
Inside outpatients
Music disturbs me
Jack-hammered
Clearing head space
Breathing abnormal
Wrap my cold skin
Tunnel wind freeze
Movement denied
Strictly prohibited
Sophisticated results
Strong magnetic pull
Head-rest hurts
Faceguard lowers
A sixty minute photo shoot
Locked in suck it up
A higher love found me
Inside the MRI machine
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Fotoula Reynolds
About the contributor
Fotoula Reynolds lives in the Dandenong Ranges in Victoria, Australia. She says that living in the hills is a writer’s dream, she is in awe of the inspirational and natural spaces that exist in her community. She began writing poetry in 2015 and has published her first book of poems titled: The sanctuary of my garden (2018). Her work is published in e-zines, journals, reviews and anthologies.