Bob Haynes

The Wall

Word swept through Maricopa's Tent City how Pedro had crossed here with a backpack and stared down the shifting lapis and teal of daybreak. According to legend, he stumbled on cracks in the craggy soil, where long ago sun claimed the dryness in brushwood like a punishment. But now, the umber landscape’s abrupt height heaves against Pedro's sight as he ambles beside agäve. Not much can keep a lie from spreading. In this heat from the braising sun, not much can keep motes from besieging his eyes. Soil has sucked dry stones already dried by the sun.

U.S / Mexico –
in the sun's arrhythmic grit –
legends of courage