Mother
Warm, Summer baby blue fluffy clouds
Whittier, CA.
suburbia, Los Angeles County
we, my Mother, housekeeper and I
going for a walk through squares
front lawns and shrubs
straight lines
white sidewalks
side by side middle class houses,
streets and parked cars
in silence
housekeeper pushing my Mothers
wheelchair
multiple sclerosis
I don't remember her name,
the housekeeper
I remember
She made fresco salsa
and albondigas
I remember
the taste of mint and other herbs,
beef and rice
I remember
arroz con pollo
the smell of simmering
chicken and rice
and the exotic tastes of los dos
she taught me how to tie my shoes
and say my first Spanish word
"zapotos"
and count to ten in Spanish
I was around seven
on that walk
it was garbage day
and on the top
sat a red, heart shaped box
she picked it up
opened it
in the plastic container
fit with slots
brown chocolates
sat in silence
as we ate them
my Mother died
with my broken heart
and chocolates
when I was twelve.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Hi Ron. I found your site. This is the poem we read at your place. Very good!