In winter, when the trees have lost their leaves,
you can see the prison from the community college.
In the classrooms PowerPoints open like crocuses
pushing up through the frozen ground, life experiences
that the class have brought to barter for their education.
You could run a factory on the power of their expectations
when they come that first night after work, the kitchen knife
of second chances at their throats as they run their fingers
along the sharp edges of their unopened text books
praying this won’t be the next brick life is throwing at them.