Poem: Two Little Girls
Two little girls as the sun was dropping
Came from the first hut, a mile away;
They left me their gifts and without stopping
Hurried for home in the last flame of day.
The one brought tortillas wrapped in a tatter
Of kerchief as weathered and orange as the sky,
The other a cluster of cosmos and madder
Picked from the meadow the trail goes by.
In one hand for the body, two for the heart,
I stand on the edge of my stout wall of stone
Watching two little girls who swiftly depart
In the distance and darkness . . . until I’m alone.