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Lucrezia Blanche Aguilar Poem
the season I turned eleven
was the season that I died
there'd been blood betrayal and famine
and I thought I had survived
my neighbor killed my kitten
and for that I could not cry
my mother went to handle it
told me to stay inside
i sat poised in an armchair
trying to calm my mother down
while I could feel nothing
we knew she'd made him drown
the woman was a laundress
washed other people's clothes
didn't like the stink of pig sties
it offended her frail nose
the wash-board on the right side
where the pigs did have their homes
was the one she always gave me
like the left one was her own.
only when a pig was hanging
would she demand to trade
i'd wash next to a hog's corpse
a choice could not be made.
then one day I got angry
and I dared to move her clothes
i moved them to the right side
as the rage inside me rose
the woman tapped my window
and said your cat is dead
it was two days before Christmas
she roused me from my bed
there was display of feeling
tears could not be be shed
gray fades to black
hello sadness my old friend
12/11/06
Copyright © Lucrezia Blanche Aguilar | Year Posted 2006
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Lucrezia Blanche Aguilar Poem
moon falls on water
in sky stars pierce forever
each one a daggar
7/5/07
Copyright © Lucrezia Blanche Aguilar | Year Posted 2007
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Lucrezia Blanche Aguilar Poem
Lord--
turn not away Thy face
Thou desirest not the death of a sinner
Thou desirest for men to come unto Thee
so that Thou mayest gather them
the way a hen gathers her flock
i have not been true to Thee
i have not harkened to Thy voice
11/3/07
Copyright © Lucrezia Blanche Aguilar | Year Posted 2007
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