Give me the torn dress,
I must go and rest.
Give me the rags,
I’ll make a flag.
It will blow beneath the blue sky,
and one day you’ll find,
peace of mind.
Your strength brought you here,
pain wielded you dear,
you’re not alone.
The house atop this creek,
the grip of machismo will never reach.
It is yours.
Watch your doors,
dim the lights,
and when it is your turn say these word with all your might:
Woman of the river, why do you cry?
I’ll take your pain,
If you take mine.
Jennifer Fierro-Padilla