the cars with lights shining bright move slowly in line, straight and almost endless. faces dark with sadness, suits and dresses black as the shadows of night, eyes glisten, heads bent, bloodshot eyes watch as the Cat slowly raises him into the earth.
the rattle of the diesel and dirt tumbles down. memory is all that remains.
tomorrow the sun will rise and warm his earth above and the songs of birds will filter through the trees.
(some thoughts of Mexicali)