by Mayte Castro
Mother stares out the window
anticipating the kettle’s song
reaching its ecstasy.
The warmth settles
Mid-day.
Her calloused hands
deserve
a gold metal
Again and again.
The American dream shows its face.
On the hallway,
Showcased,
are Mother’s offspring’s
accomplishments.
Her shoes deserve the
pedestal of sacrifice and impetus.
All the while the hope of mobility.
Mother’s mobility lies stagnant.
Eager to take flight.
Recalling the one-way trip al Norte
For a document’s power supersedes
All text book recollections of
The impact of being an undocumented person.
About the Author
Mayte Castro: woman writer and educator. She is from Southern California (daughter of Mexican parents); Mayte teaches youth and young adults ages 16-21 at an Open Doors program. Poetry Mayte writes focuses on immigration, culture and travel, and self expression as a road to healing generational traumas.
