I darted madly into the rain and hail
that fell in little clouds which
felt as tears from the torrents
of dying souls from this storm:
Leaping out from the storm
I found my children:
one upon a wet pillow
another within the bough.
I began my direction
above the beach,
down across the fields
I darted through the rain
all I wanted was a daughter
my gripping hands lost
to be my sweet self.
But, when she came
I had to make more
than a ditch
even I was a little older
and wiser
like a mother
in the shadow of my childhood
not so young anymore
:: 03.18.2022 ::
I lay in my bed
when they came
for to me.
Whispering not a word
with gleaming eyes
as silver came
to me and those others
those come from the stars
they turned my heart and home
into a zoo
like a slaughter house
of freaks.
:: 03.18.2022 ::
E.P. Robles | Poetry 