Holy Communion
Thus with sweaty hair silent lonely
The whitewash of the stone wall blinds him
The birds fall on the scorched rocks
And he there on the road in the sweltering heat
walks full of dust calm holding
a small package under arm –
that doormat where so many
had wiped their shoes one moment before
they entered the house straight to the kitchen
to drink a glass of cold water
Libros Libertad 