November 1963 Poem by Juan Olivarez

A child of ten, I was playing outside,
When I heard mama call.
Her eyes were wet with tears she'd cried,
As she leaned against the wall.

She looked at me, and the tears came again,
As she got my plate of food.
I could see she was in such pain,
And that it was nothing good.

And she said son, I have to tell you this,
And I don't want you to cry.
And she hugged me then, and gave me a kiss,
And her soul sent forth a sigh

Son she said, They've shot the president,
The radio just said.
In cold blood it was no accident,
The president is dead.

No matter what my mom had said,
I cried and cried for days.
I cried in school and in my bed,
Those were our countries darkest days.

11/11/10 Alton Texas