The Skies are Gray in the Morning of Rain

(For Momsy, because you believe in us)

Today, the skies are gray in the morning of rain

And I remember the storms and flood back home,

The ones that strand us in midthoughts, all energy

For a lost cause like the revolution long fought.

Today, the skies are mostly blue and clear

And I remember the sea and sand and surf

In the vast waters beyond the fort for foreigners,

The one for the moneyed and those like sirs.

We have lost them, these scenes of childhood

When innocence were in cents and ice cream cones,

When the skim milk was for the living and dreaming.

Today, the skies are red in the young evening,

The winter cold creeping in the crevices of rooms

I keep warm to make me remember more and more,

To make me wait for more of the coming of dawns.

From my window, I think of your, my dear.

I think of the sacrifices we etch in prayer,

The one that goes with the lighting of the candle,

The one that goes with the offering of our hearts

We wrap with whisper and silence and tear.

Los Angeles/Artesia

California, USA

Nov. 8/04

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