we stood in a long line waiting for the doors to be unlocked out in the cold wind ound the razor wire fenced in cellblock young mama with babies sisters and other kinds of kin at tallulah state prison on thanksgiving day wee waiting to get in you gotta get here early it don 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 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 easy sometimes love ain free my grammy looks so old now her hair is soft and white like the snow her hands tremble when they frisk her from head to her toes they make her take her winter coat off then they frisk her again when theye 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 easy even though it ain free sometimes love ain easy i guess love ain free