the heat of September seeps

what’s left of his family weeps

and the sun is too hot, too bright

to shed light onto this lost fight

the trail of tears that led them here

losing their mother when they were so near

their country in ruins, given to greed

hoping this dream would fulfill their needs

they trickle in out of the heat

young faces no longer so sweet

life’s bitterness soon takes hold

to know he’ll never grow old

the pastor’s words are vague echoes

(he cannot know what she knows)

a September Saturday burnt on my soul

for her, her papi, an eternal hole