USA

odalisa@wimberley-tx.com

Blood Lines

Relative to kinship,
you trace my history,
defined into branching lines.

Imbued with cyclonic ferocity,
moon-days are inherent.
Maternal matter nurtures a beginning seed,
welcomed with expanding delight,
or rejected in tragic woe.

In terror, you pale eagerly, 
yet, color at the point of embarrassing.

Driven by desperation,
a siphoned donation can ease your blues,
or a rubicund river spills contagiously,
taking the form of villainous disease.

And with my life's remission, 
you flow from the sanguine lamb.
I am alive for eternity.

Lady of the House

Tick, tick,
tick, tick. . .
Hour by gray hour,
times pass away.
The lady of the house
sits in her well groomed room,
window watching six children chase.
She wonders about the still day.
Her most lonesome times are these afternoons.
She imagines her child all ages grown.
Her middle-aged heart cringes with heavy remorse. 
She draws her dark curtains and her tears come to play.

© All Copyright, Oda Lisa Hernandez.
All Rights Reserved. Printed By Permission.