A collection of student poetry
Purple and Golden
Cielos de púrpura y oro
— Prayer to the Salvadoran Flag
I fell for you in the middle of the
Orange, golden sky of your dawns
After a sleepless night full of worries
And monsters outside my room’s window.
I heard your voice in the matutinal
Song bird of Sunday,
On the howling winds of October, and
On your crashing waves.
No one can understand your pace
Until they had slept on a hammock
By your sea. No one can understand your peace
Until they have been soothed by your breeze.
I miss your gifts: a ripe mango
Barely hanging on a branch of
A tall tree. The mango so big
It almost brings the whole branch down,
And a small, smooth stone in my hand.
After tries and tries I get to have
The free delight in my tired hand. How many
Tries until I get that mango?
How many tries to get out
Of my lonely country?
Now that I am out, now that
I am not with you anymore
I wonder if I’ll get a reward
As sweet as one of your fruits,
Or if that is forever gone,
And I have lost your sky
Dear Living Things
I am using this tree as if I were a god.
Using it to give genesis to something
I have named collective sadness,
Named our mourning. This morning
I met a red cardinal.
He told me things — told them like
A eulogy — told them like a sorrowful
Song — sang them like a requiem mass.
He said he saw, weeks ago,
Silhouettes running in the desert
Right before the sky had spread
These creatures standing
High in the moon
-light and then low as snakes in sand.
Fast as river and then still as death.
The blue men caught up to them, surrounding
Them. The cardinal heard the creatures’ names
“Aliens” the blue men screamed. “Stop”
The aliens froze and dropped —
To the ground. The cardinal followed the group,
And saw the aliens caged (like birds).
They were quiet, as if something
Had escaped their dreams.
As if they had drowned in the space
And the heavens.
Some of them did drown, didn't they?
Yesterday, in the river down south, the Rio Bravo.