View From My Window
Woman Wearing Sombrero
I am the short woman in the white sombrero.
I am the calm woman holding the bricks. I am the dark-haired woman balancing a basket of bananas on her head, walking down the path to the
Village that has No Name as I/she pass a group of people celebrating a
wedding in the dusty streets. I see the
bride, a woman wearing a white dress and
veil, though caked with dust and grime, smiling, smiling.
And the groom, the groom is swatting at the blood-sucking mosquitoes
who need to feed their young. Yes, I am that woman
and I am that groom, and I am those villagers.
I am the short woman wearing the
sombrero. I am the woman holding the bricks.
And we, we too are smiling.
-(c) 2000
I am the calm woman holding the bricks. I am the dark-haired woman balancing a basket of bananas on her head, walking down the path to the
Village that has No Name as I/she pass a group of people celebrating a
wedding in the dusty streets. I see the
bride, a woman wearing a white dress and
veil, though caked with dust and grime, smiling, smiling.
And the groom, the groom is swatting at the blood-sucking mosquitoes
who need to feed their young. Yes, I am that woman
and I am that groom, and I am those villagers.
I am the short woman wearing the
sombrero. I am the woman holding the bricks.
And we, we too are smiling.
-(c) 2000
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Woman Wearing Sombrero
Woman Wearing Sombrero
