Three Poems

Last Update: 3/5/2014 11:20 PM

By Laurel Tanza


He wears his wife’s black, sequined slippers.
He cooks dinner, not his forte, “to help.”
A Dominican Papi.
¿Quien Sabe?  Quizas. 
I hope it is a positive change for
the future of his small daughter.
Who he loves with a warm smile,
laughing eyes, whistling a tune.
These men are rare, fathers.
Doing the tasks of a mother.
The slipper fits.

A word from Home

Have you become lost?
Postage not paid.
A piece of home, family
How I miss you.
Captured amid words.
Words to express love, hope, emotion.
Yet, no letters have met my awaiting hands.
What road did you mistravel?
Will you come at all?
Waiting, no mailbox to run to.
Hoping all the same.
Maybe today?

Society Rules

The second time.
Another son.
Disappointment hides in her smile.
A son who will be raised with his father.
One who will forever need comforting reassurance.
Who will look to mom to meet his every need.
A daughter
she could raise in her footsteps.
Somebody to train to cook and clean.
A person who would care for her as she aged.
A son is work needed, a daughter a shadow.  
Who silently follows custom.

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