ECHOES Up on the holy hill barks a pack of isolated dogs each caged in its own house Gunshots reverberate down the streets A lone car passes through the desolation The music, the voices of a late, late movie filter from some darkened room its windows closed against the chill Water in the plaza fountain tumbles, spilling upon worn stones Heavy clouds make this city’s night lighter A distant church tolls the three-o’clock hour Then a nearer one a nearer one The deep solid clangs resonate down narrow alleys down these empty streets SEASIDE SUNRISE Slowly day
lightens the sea- misted sky, silhouetting thorn trees Below my balcony a pace of burros walks through the dry forest the twig-snap the leaf-crunch barely heard above the surf’s wash At a distant bamboo house a cock greets the borning day
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