MADRE

Poetry of Antonio Camacho Jr.

Touching the sea essence with their noses
old men by the seashore
sails up ... Flags waving good-bye
gulls laughing
Don Coto's face brown and wrinkled
smiles from here to ear,prepares for the voyage
To gather bounty...From the land the sea to see
The coconut trees...leaves rubbing against each other
Waiting for their daily drinks to arrive
The sun plays peek-a-boo with the rolling clouds
of white and blue

Men loading their cargo
Their wives saddened ,tears flowing,nearby laughter
Joselito, Negrita and Tony...chasing down fiddlers by the Mangrooves,oblivious they are...life is just fun and games
Atop the hill...the river flows endlessly
Mi Madre Maria Tomasa...is at the river bed
Washing clothes under the Firey Flamboyan
She's beautiful radiant, black hair, green eyes, strong yet ...
Loving she was... i miss her
My family, Mi familia, My people, me gente,
My culture, mi cultura, mi india Borincana with your music
of...
love,life,and lore
I will never forget you dreams never die...altough years
may pass I shall return ...
just like my
FATHER

Reprinted with permission from Antonio Camacho Jr.
1