When Felix’s Mother Died
By Susana Youngsteadt
Scholar, strongman, a pillar in the town,
Felix feared nothing. Until the black jaguar
Laid a dead bird at his feet.
He knews she was gone.
My angel! He cried.
My beloved of God!
He toppled, empty.
The jaguar blinked its yellow eyes
And walked away.
“I go to prepare a place for you,” his mother
whispered.
And he could see her in her Puerto Rican
blouse,
Holding a soursop at a table prepared
for the eucharist.
Ophelia and Hamlet
by Susana Youngsteadt
Father, look! My prince has come.
Tell Brother to let me be.
See my Lover, spreading, ready,
He reads philosophy, talks to the dead,
Commits bloody murder, turns away.
No vows are spoken, no promises said.
Look! Do you see me in my best gown,
Flowers scattered around?
Now I lay me down to drown,
I pray thee, Lord – look.
“Portrait of Ophelia,,” oil on canvas, 24 in. x 18 in. , by Susana Youngsteadt
“Felix’s Mother,” oil on canvas, 14 in. x 11 in. by Susana Youngsteadt