Standing in front of the St Igesius Catholic Church
surrounded by the purple cactus and the Bofecillos mountains
watching a Texas Tornado sweep toward the Rio Grande.
Headed to another country.
Like that other country acorss the Rio Granda, you too are a foreign land…
how you carelessly hold my hand
or kiss my cheek when you say hello.
It’s not home but sometimes it’s a place I want to go.
There’s something alluring about a beautiful unknown place.
like the one I see in your face
But you are still foreign to me
as much as the land that I see.
I am walking down to the river
but I will not cross over.
I’ll stand at the river bank
and quietly sit and think.