A few years ago, I met Carol Drummond, a poet who lives in Florida. From our long conversations about the painting “The News”, came out this poignant poem she titled “The News of Impossibilities”. I could not explain that painting in better words… “She knows she’ll hear them whisper Bijou when she walks-in. Bijou — …
Slowly my roots have entered into this land It’s here that I have been raised On this land I met you Yesterday we talked about it Do you remember? Today I am looking for a street A face that I know A name that I love God! They are all gone By foot, on wheels, …
I’ve been thinking about you About the toys that you received from us I see your excited eyes in my mind Your endless smile Why didn’t I ask you for your age? Are you right or left-handed? Are you still telling your story? Or Have you by now understood the horror you will face?