My tongue aches to speak/A language not my own.… Read More Maraña
Fascinated and repelled… Read More Verge
All the children with their bright eyes Bearclaw slippers and tousled hair… Flowered hat, sucking ice cream, Dark brown eyes in creamed-coffee faces, How I yearn to take them on my lap, Read to them, and taste their hope: Their childhood hope, like mine was, For more, and less, than there will ever be.
The sun Shone bright. The room was cool And dark. The presence Of friends Was enough Warmth.