Chicano Poet

Monday, July 12, 2004

Rebecca Of The Rivers

for Rebecca and Juan

We were smoking and drinking beer
the river flowing quietly, and at that moment
we didn't realize time was flowing, too.

Time with its little brown hands
that pulls you along unawares,
dragging your hair white.

Slowly taking away your ability
to write chicano poetry and limbo
at the same time that you sucker-punch someone.

Your eyes were diamonds that
cut the summer clouds into recognizable figures.
Brown Buffaloes,caracoles...

It is only now that you are lost
that we struggle to turn back the hands of time
but its octopus arms escape us.

Oh, Rebecca,goddess of the rivers
We have come bearing gifts and libations
that you appear to us

once again in your splendor
and bless Seguin with your presence,
the riverbanks are bare without you!


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