YOUR BLACK BRAIDS NEATLY DRAPED
By Bill Frayer
Your black braids neatly draped You sit attentive On the white plastic bucket In the sheet metal shade. You love your family, I can tell. You sit so still, back to, In the lee of the Blazing desert sun. I worry in that instant Through the cactus, from the road, What will happen to your soul. I cannot see your face But I see enough. Your house has no door. The wind blows through The slats of recycled wood That suggest a wall Together with tattered fabric And a flapping green tarp. I love you in that moment As I imagine your brown eyes Swell as you absorb The love around you. But I see the desperation Of those who sit, staring Into the highway, A portrait of helplessness. You are young, perhaps eight? And you cannot see beyond Your mother’s arms And your father’s smile. Yet, perhaps you will escape Perhaps your will can Carry you into an unlikely spot Where the improbability of the future Can fertilize your life And we can watch you prosper. |
- September 2023 – Issue - August 31, 2023
- September 2023 – Articles - August 31, 2023
- September 2023 - August 31, 2023