Why Do You Cry, Mirror at Narita?
Is it that you cannot bear to
hear the heartbeats of Elena so young,
so pretty, so dear, waiting for the yakuza,
that you cry?
Or is it that you cannot bear to see ravaged Mom
combing her lifeless hair waiting for the ride home,
that you cry?
I cannot understand,
for what is there in crying
when home is a terrifying dream,
when home is want so mind-boggling,
when home is an endless scream?
poem by Elmer Sayre
Added by Poetry Lover
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