I like leaving this place

Photo credit: Azmaan Baluch on Unsplash

(Early 2000s--Thoughts from when I use to visit the Saskatoon Correctional Center with my minister and members of my church)

I like leaving this place. 

Always feels like a weight has been lifted. 

Going in is the opposite.  The inside. 

Hand over my stuff that gets put in a bucket. 

Checked by a metal detector. 

Cleared, the first set of glass doors close behind. 

Harder to breathe. 

In the booth the second set of doors open

and I step in. 

Everything institutional:

I guess so everything can be mopped down,

even the walls. 

Only carpet is in the chapel. 

Maybe carpet makes it feel cosy. 

Chapel time: a good excuse to get out. 

The CALL, a buzzer, comes over the speakers and

in we go. 

There is singing. 

A common request is “I’ll Fly Away.” 

We all smile over that one. 

After the minister speaks

and singing is over,

everyone gets their story out quickly. 

Visiting is short. 

“Have you been here all your life?” 

~HA!  HA!  Good one. 

Instead of “Are you from Saskatoon?” 

No matter. 

Everyone had a laugh.

Some friendly faces. 

There isn’t much time before The CALL calls again. 

Back to the cells. 

Back to behind glass walls. 

On display. 

We were on display tonight. 

I walk back the way I came in. 

Knowing I get to leave. 

I always get to leave.