Mexican mountains in the distance,
Warmly orange and misted in cool cotton,
Watching the jagged points for crouching witches,
They might watch me…
Standing in the crumbled junk piles,
Of my father’s childhood backyard,
Rat-like cockroaches click around my feet,
As I breath… Fresh air Mexico.
Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 4:11 PM UTC
Mexican mountains in the distance,
Warmly orange and misted in cool cotton,
Watching the jagged points for crouching witches,
They might watch me…
Standing in the crumbled junk piles,
Of my father’s childhood backyard,
Rat-like cockroaches click around my feet,
As I breath… Fresh air Mexico.
