she was the first to gift <br />me a brown sweat shirt when <br />i had my 6th birthday <br />and i could not really forget that <br /> <br />now on her 59th birthday <br />she took charge of everything <br />down to the last detail of the flower <br />that gives accent to the <br />center table to the cake's flavor <br />and the ginger slices that <br />go with her fish fillet <br /> <br />she is the bread winner of the family <br />her husband is weak and <br />good for nothing <br /> <br />what can we do? we must love what <br />she loves <br />because we love her too. <br /> <br />time is like a slimy fish <br />it swims inside our hearts <br />eluding the hands that <br />want to catch it <br /> <br />we were talking about <br />another sister who is sick <br />with no one <br />in the hospital <br /> <br />there were other talks <br />whatever <br />i did not pay attention anymore <br />i have my own <br />version of insecurities <br />and i do not wish to tack <br />it on their piles. <br /> <br />we said goodbye <br />the night was deep and the <br />longing continues <br />deeper than before<br /><br />RIC S. BASTASA<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/on-her-59th-birthday/
