"The Window", a poem by Yolanda Quiroz

In the vast depth

of the sad eyes of a child 

profound is the sigh of the night

when he is waiting at his window.



At home, empty pots

are empowered by the shadow

Stain of the inhuman misery

The same one that clouds his window.

His almost naked little body

dirty and slightly deformed

has again attacked his guts

causing him deep sorrow

he whimpers a sad cry.

Meanwhile the night becomes longer

his hope slowly waning 

even though the child says nothing

He wonders if all children 

have a window at home.

Suddenly, his small teeth corrupted

and attacked by hunger and poverty

become visible in the shout that drowns

the glimpse of whom he expected.

When the child sees him 

coming through the door

There is no need for questions or answers

the child lowers his gaze

and hungry again, he goes to bed.

 © IMPRESSIONS, IMPRESIONES by Yolanda Quiroz, 1996