Madre
You
the silver thread of my thoughts
clay of my bones
red, muddy rivers of my veins
and, the tribe like drumming in my chest
how can I honor the one
who honored me
with the simplicity
of life?
I tear holes in the shroud
of this uncommon decency
known as "womanhood"
and paint you tall
strong, brave, tender...
paint you prouder than any man
ever
and say the word for God
in the voice of a child
for...
you are my mother















32 old applause
