Cuzco

the air is so thin
gasping

warm sunlight caught
in the green
and brown shards
embedded along
the top
stout brick wall
stained glass security

a ghost
sits quietly
hunched
 back to the wall
hiding in plane sight


watching the passing clouds
the passing
of the day

for a few pesos
he will toss the bones and shells
from the worn leather pouch
hanging loosely
around his thin neck
and see tomorrow

we all have secrets
even from ourselves

a pack of feral
stray children
shouting racing
staccato bare soled
slapping the stone street

chasing
a pale white chicken
into an alley
veering off to the left

people carry themselves
according to an idea
of their place in the
world
 
the lead dog passes
 dropping the
mangled corpse
at his feet

bright white feathers
stand in stark contrast
to the tepid red blood
pooled
at the bottom
of a simple clay pot

Reviews

[CS]

You are very talented, Brian. You paint a scene masterfully. I can almost feel myself in the bowels of a little town, just watching the world around me and philosphizing about the meaning of it all. What I like about this piece is its simplicity. It doesn't dig for some deeper meaning. It is what is it. A moment in time.

[icelandicblue]

There is so much to read and absorb in this poem. I love the alliteration in stanza 6 and the words of wisdom in stanza 8- people do carry themselves according to their idea of their place in the world. That is such an astute observation. The whole poem felt like a tableau- one that I might spend some time studying. Your imagery is taut and multi-dimensional. I haven't thought of broken glass on walls for security in a long time and that detail added a lot to this moment.