The Road to California

The road to California

is paved with

white

stones.

They fall under our

tires as we roll.

There are pink skies,

and blue skies,

and rainbows so bright.

There are pots of gold,

and there are people

with haggard eyes,

but we must

carry on...

carry on.

There is a spot

on Route 66

where children go

to mourn

their mothers'

lives.

Take me there.

I am the child,

and I am

the hero,

my sword

across my back.

Too,

I am

The

Mother.

A mom.

I know

I have

to go

home

to set ground

for the women--

and the Woman--

who will bring us

ashore.

The Women will say,

"Breathe."

And she will say,

"Eat

of

my

bounty.

I have honored you

all the days

of

my

life."