Two Poems: One More Day and She Grew Old


One More Day

It left her young,
For her old age—
As she would say:
‘I’m looking at another day.’

All her hours
Were butterfly songs
Warmly fashioned
Through her hum…!

Shiny days, and nights:
At the end of her life,
She had a rainbow
Kind of sight…!



Note: #1406 written at El Parquetito, café, Miraflores, Lima Peru. 7/28/2006; my mother’s last years of life, w ere calm, refreshing, peaceful, but of course, she made it that way.





She Grew Old

I, whose longing never dies,
Things I will never know or tell
Often wondered, how she’d die.
As I traveled around the world

Under fairer skies than mine,
Peaceful valley’s did she find;
She did not seek a richer part
Where she travels, goes her heat!

In the winter, she knitted and sowed,
With wonder and desire, she grew old.




#1407 written: 7/30/06 at ‘La Perla Piurana,’ Lima, Peru. My mother tried to live a simple life, not sure if that looks good in the eyes of the world, but it fascinated me, perhaps because I wanted touch the stars, and she was so content, on earth.