Today is Saturday. Tonight, I am sitting outside listening to the cicadas sing. There must be hundreds of them. Sometimes they are so loud, I can barely hear anything else.
Its probably around 80 degrees and the moon has just replaced the sun. The sky is a soft blue with pink clouds stretching across. I am sitting with my dog, Fiona, on my lap listening to that strange and whining buzz. For me, this is the sound of summer.
I got a call from one of my friends who also writes some of the same prisoners as I do. We spoke about my little autistic guy. He is in with gang members and his sounds of summer in a Tennessee prison are screams and hostile threats. He has an older friend who tries to protect him from violence, but the friend is not always successful.
I am afraid for my autistic friend. I am afraid for his safety and his mental health. I am afraid to ever miss a week of writing him because he desperately awaits the encouraging letters from my friend and me.
I want to bottle up the sounds, the smells of summer and the soft blue sky and send it to him. I want him to sleep at night hearing cicadas sing.
I want to believe that one day the DOJ and its prison system as it is will fall apart. I want to believe that decent humane people who believe in restorative justice, in mercy, in second chances will rise up and replace the brutal, the cruel, the heartless, the greedy, the dishonest, the deviant who run and work in this peverse “justice” system.
I am listening to cicadas sing. It is the only consolation for me tonight as I think about my peeps in prison.
One day….peace my dear friends..💕