Our Close Knit Town

A Poem by Pat St. Pierre

We hold fast in our cocoon.
Like the caterpillar
waiting to shed his thin chrysalis;
we remain insulated.
Our children mingle with their own kind;
few blacks or minorities pass us
on neighborhood streets.
We accept the falsehood,
believing we’ve made progress.
As another generation follows
in our footsteps
nothing will alter our suburban cocoon
unless
we uncover
something to rip away the walls
forcing true equality.

The Mirror

A Poem by Pat St. Pierre.

Looking in the mirror,
I see my mother beside me.
Her countenance clear,
But her blue green eyes hold secrets.
Has a fortuneteller brought her here?
Is it her troubled spirit?
She’s trying to tell me—
Doors should stay open,
Rainbows give hope,
Depression leads to misery.
She wants me to see goodness,
The happiness around me,
Contentment in love.
She says listen, you must.
If you don’t, then you’ll be
With me in the mirror.