I have shoudered the landscape,
Where termites cross the plateau to find the woods.
Where weeping wilows crack under the harsh ice.
Where snow floods the bottomless houses of the rich and poor alike.
The caverns and crevices that noticed me standing there,
Gave out a light only beggers know how to percieve.
As donkeys carried thier weight and double
Crushed under the sketal figures of thier owners hunger.
As the faces of joy turned towards the dusky Sunday churches,
Wrapped in best attire of hope and faith of something better.
As the dead lay wrapped in loss' tearfilled clothes,
And the candles' perfume rising, filling, lighting
Cheeks of mothers, cheeks of children, fathers, brothers.
The elders, draped in wrinkes, whitened hair and silently
Knowing the toll of life upon thier post and posistion facing
Sunrise, facing the corssing of the channel, birthing unto
The world an unspoken kindness toward the beloved dream.
Fresh fruits covered the tables at noon, wildly lush, aromatic
Vapors rising under small hands that reached them quickly.
The streets crazed haven, dirt smooted, feces laquered, perfume sprayed, box clustered, glue sniffing,farmer laden,diesel fumes black, drug smuggling, police corrupted gospel loving, child working, tie wearing town
Where the distant mountains saluted bconing from afar,
Towering over the scooped out dives below, giants calling,
Here we go onward, here we look out to sea, here fall to earth
Here look toward heavenly stars.
Cant you let go of the grip, as lemons fall bumping dust,
As dogs roam and zig zag, tucked tortillas lie on plates,
Baby watches the sun go down on its mothers' hair, wont another
Day bring rain? Wont Easter come again? Wont the weather tell us
where we are, wont the trees bend and whisper once again ?
so I close my eyes deeply...drifiting...to sleep.
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