Santa Monica

Children of the iron curtain

Stripped of God from birth,

Crawling on a toothless wall -

Question marks on compass.

Chicks growing colored wings,

Door unlocked - unable to believe

Sunrise doesn't come with bars

For those who can still fly...

No man's land - unable to catch roots,

Holograph of gardens back home

Tended by parents with disrupted movements,

Tears muffled on the California coast...

Children of the iron curtain...

Each sunset gathers them on beaches

Champion chess players of their fate

Stop and salute me as I drive along

alone...

 

by: Iolanda Scripca