PATRICIA A. MANIACI

Where Are My Children?

Where are they?

My children.

They are priceless.

Not a billion

Nothing here will change.

Til we are together.

I am the real mother.

She is just pleather.

We must go home.

To Sierra Madre.

To pray over the vortex.

You are not their padre.

No more mixing signals.

You are not our kind.

The drama stops here.

Can not press rewind.

They just called Mr. Gamble,

Mabel.

They are meeting at my casino.

Her eyes are not hazel.


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