After work I took a drive to El Centro and south to the California border.
A steel river flowed over the desert in corroding waves. It showed beauty
in strength, its shade spread like night falls. Sand mounds were like
miniature dunes, where ants endured shifting trails and tarantulas
scurried for mates. I saw no one and sensed no one on the other side.
Silence lingered inside side-blotched lizard tracks. Creatures adapt
because rain falls elsewhere. I understand about lost promises in new
days that evaporate from the weathered bones of those who failed to cross.
Mexican border autumn
heaps of bones grow higher
a wall three men high