My Mother's Room Poem by Juan Olivarez

I live inside this room of mine,
With family pictures on my walls.
To me this room is so very fine,
It has weathered many squalls.

Late at night, I sit up and read,
From so many volumes all around.
So many wise words and noble deeds,
That in these volumes do abound.

Maybe some day, a raven might,
Come visiting at the midnight hour.
Now don't you think that'd be a sight,
To make a man tremble and cower?

It used to be my mother's room,
But it seems now, so long ago.
Here I feel safe like in her womb,
And stay up till the first cock crows.

10/30/10 Alton Texas