Wednesday, September 02, 2009


I flaunted faded glories in the still air
Like the banderitas of last year’s fiesta
The leaves of the big acacia tree by the wayside
Also waited for a cue from passing breezes

There is no slamming of front doors
And window shutters on the second floor
Are slightly ajar as if the slats had eyes
Peering expectantly at a desolate street

But the wind hung like heavy drapes
Despite the whistling of an urchin
The dust remains settled on the ground
Only the shimmer of the heat is seen

Even mangy dogs did not patrol
The narrow lanes of the interior commune
Cats did not move from window perches
A girl stares blankly at the stillness of life

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