The Single-parent Mother/ Church under the Bridge/ Butterfly in My Childhood

US-12 The Single-parent Mother

She digs into the garbage
For her sleeping son
In the worn-out baby carriage

No job, no man, she told me
Her young face expressionless:
“Can you give me sume money foo buying diapers?”

My hand fumbles in my pocket
A dollar note  I give her:
“Where do you live?”
“Just across the bridge”

What a house has she ?
Who  pays her bills?
Does she take drugs?
Does she have good neighbors?

Thinking, I returned to the garbage station
She is nowhere to find

US-13 Church under the Bridge

On Sunday I went to the
Church under the Bridge
Hearing songs of Jesus
Among shrieking traffic
Over our heads on I-35

An Afro brother talked about David
The boy who kills the giant
I saw a huge guy
Towering over me

I fled into the fantasy
Of Beijing’s fly-overs
And the flea market
I visited a lot

US-14 Butterfly in My Childhood

I remember the butterfly in my childhood
Often struggles in our web
Or lies flat and dry between leaves of books
Or stands still in box of framed glass

We tend to put  beauty
Into its captivity
To possess the good things of the world
In our narrow frame of mind

Often, we forget
How big the world is
And how lovely when
All are free and flying
Like a butterfly

*This poem is at web site http://mgfx.com/kidlit