The BOOKPRESS April, 1996

My Mother's Walk

Francesca Bacon

My Mother’s Walk

With your wide-brimmed hat of smiles
You emerge from the house
Leaving behind
The flowers of the poet
The sad little flowers of the past
And of little sins so green
That grow alongside
Words in the solarium
Next to the cacti

Going out now
To the crazy breeze
And the stained leaves
And the showering sun
Your steps retrace
The past and the future —

ln this leaf I see my country
In this one my mother’s countenance
And in the midst of all this greenery
Where is the smile for me?

Outside my neighbors’ houses
I see regular yards
With colored flowers
That reflect the tastes of that one
But where are my daughters’ sentiments
And plans?

There comes the breeze
Running in-between grass fingers
Shaking up the rows of tulips
The brim of my hat
And there my house
With its singular arrangements
Daffodils by the doorstep
Sewn by the sun

And now I enter my house
My room of words
And see there
Underneath the window
The garden of my protests

And I feed them water
I offer them my promises.

Francesca Breton

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