It is the time of the jacaranda
when streets are violet carpets
and venders call "Hay elotes! " in the early evening.
No reason to think this could not last forever
...
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I This poem is a tribute to the author who is a poet and a writer and a teacher whose students could have been the missing 43, or on the burning buses or victims of the spent cartridge, but sees the light in the trees. Great poem.
Wow! What an eye-opener! Does this really happen in Mexico in this day and age?