Elegy For Mom

Mom, it’s been forty-seven years
since you went away,
but then, you know that.

You know all my failures
and my rare, yes, very rare successes.
I apologize.

You can’t expect much
from someone who chose
to be a poet,

words are not legal tender,
words seldom speak.
It’s been difficult

putting Spanish into plain English.
I have done
the best I could.

I have carried you here in my heart,
gotten choked up almost every day
thinking of you.

These forty-seven years
have seemed like
the blink of an eye.

My little eyes filled with tears
when my aunt gathered us--- Valentin,
Julian, (Mary was too young to understand)

to tell us that you
had gone to a better place
or some nonsense like that.

No one has convinced me
of it yet
because you are always beating in my heart.