30 May 2012
21 May 2012
12 May 2012
The daughters of Puerto Rico are playing handball in the schoolyard;
Their limbs flash in noon light.
In an island in a city
There claps a sound of life in small palms
Like a truth recognized:
Their voices, their breath,
Their shouts of joy and contention,
Are suns and shades;
A bond and trick of memory.