Читать книгу Voices on the Corner - Harold J. Recinos - Страница 10
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I sit and hear
about the man
from Guatemala
shot last week
by cops who never
sob about wrong
doing. I see
bony children in
unlit apartments
neglected, abused,
desperately crying
in beaten mothers’
arms. I hear people
talk about martyrs, agony
without end, the death
of the world, the vain
cries everywhere, the
churches unable to see
and hear beyond their
sullen Sabbath. I dwell
on the silence of God.
