The Old Prison is a poem by Wright, an Australian who played a crucial role in the upholding of aboriginal Australians' rights and took strong decisions in protecting our environmental issues. Her famous works are The Moving Image (1946), Women to Man (1949), a poem celebrating womanhood and the like.
Here in this poem, it's all revolving around a convict built jail and the emotional elegies that permeates although the premises of a bay where the jail stands. Now the jail is in its ruins out of the consequences of the war and equally by the destruction caused by the sea rampage and the wind as well
One day she goes there to inspect the situation and greatly moves by the deplorable conditions prevailing there. She then contemplates the bitter life that was led by the prisoners back in its inception. She calls on her mind about those terrible days and assume that this probable things would have happened to them and tries to recount the events that was being told her by the sea and the wind.
The roofs are no longer there for the rows of cells, so terrible cold wind is keep getting into the cells. For the wind, now the rows of cells are like a flute. The chillness of the air is carried from the blue caves of South makes the life there even worse.
Its a fierce day though and wind rampaged the prison like an angry bee, leaving it stone skeleton kind remains. But don't know why. May be it came for some black honey that was hid in the pits of the sea. And all the incident is now being related to a ship wreckage that happened in the bay long ago.That's there happened a ship wreckage near the bay, out of a horrible mutiny for some money. Money sank in the sea along with the ship, may its the reason why the wind keep blowing heavily to regain it.
The wind gave forth gigantic waves that washed away the remains of that prison leaving bare stones and its singing some bitter songs of the bitter past with all broken emotions.
Then the poets asks who built this prison, only the waves and wind alone know as they had been stood there as a monolithic witness to those events that had taken place there, she says.
As the winds unleashed its terrible chilling hands on the prison, prisoners' cold cells broken then, throwing them away completely.
They didn't have anyone else there to love and to be loved because they were all alone, they would have cried then as the wind now cries as it passes through the flute kind cells of that dilapidate prison.