Finding My Voice
I was silent for awhile
until I found my voice.
A shrill sound through the night
echoed in the canyon.
Crickets joined in and the noises got
louder.
There are no roses here in the valley.
Food is scarce,
The air is stagnant.
We are waiting for a fresh breeze
to awaken our senses.
Trash Burners
My eyes and nostrils burn
from the stench of
the trash burners.
Windows are closed.
Smoke circles over our heads
When we open the door.
I am still trying to breathe.
Crossing Borders
Crossing borders
into other places.
Drawing lines
on a wrinkled face,
speaking languages with gestures
and signs.
Miracles are waiting to happen
In the sands of time.
The Heart Drum
A heart drum is a steady beat.
We have heard through the ages-
resounding in canyon walls,
echoes from a distant drum.
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