Border

flauta-de-paniagua

 

Light captured
in blown dust
makes a timbral ping,
plucked from air.

Thud of a boot
landing from on high,
a softer thump
than a running heart.

The hollow hoot
of a wind-blown bottle
Less lonely then the runner
Emptied of home and hope.

 

Please visit http://bordercantos.com/
Richard Misrach and Guillermo Galindo

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