406 - By Jan Richard Baraceros

I am, by birth, a person of the East. 

I am, by blood, a laughter and a please. 

I am, by skin, a man of uncrossed rivers; 

I am, by bones, a child of same old figures.

Passed by the gates of cold mornings—turn right, turn left, turn down the warnings.By your side—in your stride—your worn immaturity.Glancing back at you, a four-sided sanctuary.

The door opens and the voices drop dead.The laughter resumes and they are born again.All raised the same by the woman in red;All smile the same for her joke once then.

But one night takes the emotional kid—

leaving the others with plenty to read.

A postcard, a letter, a new address;

calling them all for his success.

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Cover Page by Akshita