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Issue 21, Poesía, Featured | October 2017

     

Nightscape for Don Pacheco

It begins with the garden
of night, sleepless, a mud-caked
hoe on his bowed shoulder, he
shuffles out of the wind-ruffled
corn rows, steps over
a sailing sugar maple leaf,
a crackling twig, a fallen
scarecrow while above his head
widening silent wings of
a white owl shadow him.
Venus and Mars radiate
beside the bruised-face moon's
chalky light. Who are we
among the billions of stars?

Nightscape for Don Pacheco