She Makes Me Remember Poem by RIC BASTASA

she is old, her hair diminished,
still black but dry, and her skin cannot betray
her being overworked and
abused by society,
i face her now and she reminds me
that she was the one who took care of me when i was a baby,
mama was a teacher and papa was a drunkard
yet he was rich by that time's standard,
glasses were thrown away from the kitchen and broke themselves
on the pavement of the strangers,
she took care of me like a mama,
forlorn, and betrayed she asks money for the rum
i give her, and she is happy now
i look at her again when she leaves the place
she is disappointment looking for some pleasure
to forget,
she stinks but she is still one
of the family treasures.
mama died and if she was only her
i know she would hug her
as tight as an apron
on her waist.