Thanksgiving - Mary Gauthier

We stood in a long line waiting for the door to be unlocked

Out in the cold wind, 'round the razor wire fenced-in cellblock

Young mama’s with babies, sisters and other kinds of kin

At Tallulah State Prison on Thanksgiving Day, we’re waiting to get in

You gotta get here early, it don’t matter how many miles you drove

They make you wait for hours, jailers always move slow

They run names, check numbers, gravel faced guards they don’t smile

Grammy and me in line, silently waiting single file

Thanksgiving at the prison, surrounded by families

Road weary pilgrims who show up faithfully

Sometimes love ain’t easy, sometimes love ain’t free

My grammy looks so old now, her hair is soft and white like the snow

Her hands tremble when they frisk her from her head to her toes

They make her take her winter coat off then they frisk her again

When they’re done she wipes their touch off her dress, stands tall and heads in

Thanksgiving at the prison, surrounded by families

Road weary pilgrims who show up faithfully

Even though it ain’t easy, even though it ain’t free

Sometimes love ain’t easy, I guess love ain’t free