Dedicated to the Children of Haiti
Some days,
My hollow belly begs
Before my body rises.
Some days,
My breath is all that sustains me,
From sun up to sun down.
At morning,
I imagine
My mother’s hands
Turning over the soil.
Her voice humming,
Chanting for unity and peace,
That is her ritual.
Some days,
The waiting feels quite long.
A glimmer of hope
Keeps my cup half full.
My eyes keep watch for
The mercy, the miracle,
The light from the road.
So I sit, and I watch
I sit and I watch—
Some make it back.
This article appears in May 2011.
