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WHO WILL CRY THIS DAY
A hand resting upon the dust, tiny and young,
Pointing up to the gods, fingers so red and still,
A scorpion watching with raised poisonous tail.
Who will cry this day, mother no,
In the house by the bed , oh so red,
She would weep for the hand, but for dead.
Who will cry this day, father no,
In the field near the tree, oh so sad,
He could weep this day, but no.
A hand that was once used to dance,
Pointing to boys and laughing at last,
She was sweet, like a virgin Madonna.
First came the noise, whistling at the birds,
Pushing clouds away and dropping,
Then that pressure, so much and hot.
A head that turned never to respond,
Eyes that froze on the sun for last,
Legs who danced but not this dance.
Presidents smile and wear new war suits,
Ministers speak of freedom,
Citizens cheer and wave this day.
I will cry for a child this day?
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TO DENIS,
WHEN I SEE THE SUN,
I THINK OF YOU,
WHEN GENTLE RAINS FALL,
I THINK OF YOUR TEARS.
YOUR GOODNESS DID NOT GO UNNOTICED
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AGNES AND JOSEPH
My dear friends, family.
I think of you everyday, my tears water the earth,
I think of you when I am thirsty and drink some wine,
I think of you when a warm breeze soothes my face,
I think of you when I hurt and hide from life.
I wish I could take some of your pain unto me,
I wish your love and humanity was like an endless wind,
I wish that you rest with the sleep of peace.
I think and honor you, my friends------my mentors of love.
From Joseph,
The son of Agnes and Dennis, the brother of Aggie, Denis, Carol and Joe.
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