Читать книгу After Eden - Harold J. Recinos - Страница 21

in the thanksgiving month of

November beyond the high

thoughts perjuring history

that make you gasp for air,

kind hands reach for you from

the aching depths known too well

by strangers in this land troubled

by mouths full of loathing. despite

generations of knowing the nation’s

rivers, mountains, oceans, forests,

valleys and lakes, you are a stranger

here, one of the many dispossessed

of a place to call home, and your sweet

dreams are curved by those in power to

satisfy their English only wants. in the

many months to come you promised to

put away these days by having your truth

carried by the wind to any public stage,

where with elegant rage it will speak

to say America is home!