Outing
On corners they stand
“Feed homeless” in their hands.
One wears tights; for shade cap.
Other is Colombo, long raincoat.
Brutal, scorching is the sun in sky
Everything is afraid, no moon and no star.
Colors pale.
Windows down, ACs on, we differ
New leaves are green, young, fresh.
Hands and foot run the car
Paper on steering; and pen writes.
Eyes observe all these things, man and dog
On grass of roadsides flowers in yellow
They will bear dandelions in no time.
Brain is go between, ladino
On border at the shore
Translates Latino.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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