Classic poem of the day
The Tarahumara Indians have come down,
sign of a bad year
and a poor harvest in the mountains.
Naked and tanned,
hard in their daubed lustrous skins,
blackened with wind and sun, they enliven
the streets of Chihuahua,
slow and suspicious,
all the springs of fear coiled,
like meek panthers.
Naked and tanned,
wild denizens of the snow,
they—for they thee and thou—
always answer thus the inevitable quest......
Member poem of the day
Dusty shelf still I look up to where they sit on a shelf high collecting dust once it seems so long ago I carried them everywhere with me and I did show them and I was so proud and in time I learned no one did care so there they sit dreams and ideals from when I was young so long ago still I love them and them I keep but now tucked away collecting dust
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