Return to Top of Page
Menu
  • Close
  • About Us
  • Contributors
  • Donate
  • Opportunities
  • Staff
  • Submissions
  • 20 Years
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Instagram
  • Search Website
Literary Mama
  • Current Issue
  • Past Issues
  • Departments
  • Blog
  • Newsletter

Poetry | November 2016

112 Miles from Karnes Immigrant Detention Center, Karnes City, Texas

By Lisa Moore

I think you know, but please don’t mention it,
the smell of wolf willow, chokecherry, sweet broom,
of caged children in foil blankets on cement.

Exhausted women offer empty breasts to babies,
sleep restless as they dream of blood-soaked rooms,
as I think you know—but please don’t mention it.

My baby, practice Handel; I’ll show you where your bow slid.
Tonight I’ll hold you, shivering in your night-dark room,
knowing caged children sleep in foil blankets on cement.

One young mother begged all the way to the bridge.
She was thrown into the river’s gloom.
I think you know, but please don’t mention it.

At home, you drew your bow across the bridge.
In camp, they all got sick: poor food, the cold,
the caged children in foil blankets on cement.

She told the officers within a week she would be killed.
What were we doing at that hour, me and you
as caged children slept in foil blankets on cement?
I think you know, but please don’t mention it.

1 reply on “112 Miles from Karnes Immigrant Detention Center, Karnes City, Texas”

B.L.says:
November 18, 2016 at 12:54 pm

So powerful. Indeed, what are we doing, me and you, as caged children sleep in foil blankets on cement? Thank you for mentioning it.
B.L.

Reply

Leave a Reply Cancel reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Share This Page

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Email
  • Copy Link

Lisa Moore

Learn More

Subscribe to Our Newsletter

Don't miss out on Literary Mama news and updates

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Instagram
  • Instagram
  • RSS

© 2023 Literary Mama | Search Site | About Us | Staff | Submissions | Privacy Policy