Thursday, January 14, 2010

Bolivian Highlands

The hoarse pipe leads
the virgin flutes follow
too high this plateau
even for mist to breathe

Then come the bearded ones
riding whining steeds
catechisms up to the hilt

Hoarse pipes
virgin wind
the canyons descend
into cascades of a birthing Amazon

Out to the ocean, the continent's silt
in ravines back there, women and children,
a race was slaughtered,

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