Arnoldo Garcia

Las lomas coloradas / the red hills [extractos|excerpts]


time grew
the days weren't slow
the nights weren't fast

time grew everywhere
in the sorgo
in the chaparral
in the red clouds of cardenales
in the shadows of the auras
beautiful zopilotes announcing the new dawn
in the poise of the hare
in the glistening camouflage
of the rattlesnake
on the backs of the turtles
keepers of the cenotes
in the whirring of doves
palomas that we ate in droves

the days we spent
wrapped in colchas
made of maize, frijol and watermelons

at night our backs arched over
to gulp down the rain of stars
or sniff at a satellite passing high in
the skin of the earth
an alien clockwork

while time grew
our bodies became spring
our tongues summer
our beards fall
our souls winter
hibernating time
to restore the land
the red hills
las lomas coloradas
with our fallow hands
a place where migrants disappeared
and became whirlwinds