Rue de Paris

Rue de Paris
Tres Miserables!
Los minutes expuestos por un solo minuto.
Porque?

It is a moment in time
An instant in time
Which leads many to ponder.

It is but a moment in time that counts
These precious
Seconds, seconds
Of life.

Rue de Paris
People running
People moving in masses
Elevator doors open and close
Releasing the embryos.

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poem by Elaine Oxamendi Vicet
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Who is a Mother

Who is a Mother?

A mother is someone
soft and kind

Firm not harsh

Someone who is always
willing to give a listening ear.

Someone we cherish each
and everyday

Mothers are rare like
precious gems

Many have children
but few mother them.

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poem by Elaine Oxamendi Vicet
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Good Night My Brother

Good Night My Brother

Good Night my dear brother.
It seems that is all I can say
as today you close your eyes on this, now fated day.
My mother she shed a tear and asked us all simply to pray.

We hear her heart breaking
Cracking as she… shuffles.
She moves quietly in her room.
The house is still lit, she doesn’t want any gloom.

She ponders to herself we are sure; of what is to come.
The children left behind, still wondering on the moment.
One minute he was there and the next he is gone.
Confused by it all...the children...Oh the children! ...oh what is to done?
The police have now come and gone
as dear brother he passed away at home
lying on his bed, no movement.. no…no breathing in his room.

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poem by Elaine Oxamendi Vicet
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