Kimberly Vargas Agnese

Why…


i guess she never quite  

understood

why 

it was so important

for her mother 

to kidnap 

her 

from her father,

to strip 

her

of holidays,

to whip

her

when her brother got into trouble,

to scream at 

her

for not lying,

to laugh

when old men hit

on her,

….sometimes 

i see that mother’s daughter asking me why?

in the mirror…

and I don’t know 

what

to tell her…

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Published by Kimberly Vargas Agnese

My name is Kimberly Vargas Agnese, though I've previously written as Kae Bucher. I was born in the Florida Keys, but grew up in the Bay Area before migrating south to the San Joaquin Valley. As I ride barefoot around Fresno, I consider the paths I've chosen and the crossroads where our country seems to have perched itself. Thanks to my Romani ancestry, many people groups reside within me and my poetry tends to reflect this. I love welcoming the sunrise with my Native American flute. I've been rumored to juggle while teaching students how to write. And if you can't find me, I'm probably hanging out with Jesus listening to parables.

11 comments

  1. Thank you for your post. You raise important questions. A good friend (Maryknoll priest) told me when I ask him a similar question, “Ray, sometimes there is nothing you can say, but you can always be present. Shiver with her in the winter, and sweat with her in the summer. It was wisdom. A loving presence is always more important than words. Ray

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