First Winter


On his first winter,
the uneasy
migrant
can see himself
reflected in the blanket
of soft snow,

object of half
the world’s
dread
and the other half’s
envy.

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Coverage of the Visit


Pope Francis is shown smiling
and waving to the sea of people
in the streets of Manila, beneath
the rain. The reporter mentions
the Pope carries his own bag,
praises the crowd’s discipline,
how one could smell hope in the
polluted air,
he starts to talk about love and peace,
setting aside of differences,
the reporter has been touched by God.
Criticism became not just rude
but blasphemous, no one mentions
why he is here, no one mentions
gatherings like this also
topple governments.

While singing along religious songs,
she was forced to learn as child,
my mother is driven to tears,
in front of the television,
half-way across the world.