Invisible, en silencio, hungry, scared.
Tired, they hide in my father's barn,
Seeking his shelter, comida, water,
Help to find a safe place to work.
We are not allowed to see them
We say, "We saw no one. La verdad".
Bertha came from Mexico for day work.
Served three generations, she's still here.
Carlos fled Honduran poverty
Found life good, sold drugs, he's imprisoned.
His father a "disappeared one," Juan left Peru,
Became CEO for farm worker housing.
The faceless ones still cross the border,
Swim the Rio Grande, risk death in the desert,
Are robbed and betrayed by coyote countrymen.
Elements, legislation, fences, bullets won't stop them
Until the promises they seek for their familias
Become realities in their own countries.
Juanita Rivera Laush
Lake Oswego, Oregon
|JUANITA RIVERA LAUSH, 85, Lake Oswego, a retired community college medical business teacher, volunteers at the Hispanic local farm worker community and Adult Community Center. She takes poetry classes, enjoys freelance writing, and has a memoir in progress. Her sun sign is Virgo.