cruzando

I can hear their voices

Calling calling yelling

I can hear them

Dry faces weeping

Across the dusty paths

They bear the breath of the sun

And the angry brows staring down

They keep walking

Walking walking walking

Drenched and dusty

Wet backs under soaked t-shirts

They drag along their fears

But never slow down

And make sure to reach the shade

Where worn down faces can sit

With silence

Praying

For a better day