Here they come
Women and children marching
Down the dusty road
Fleeing one oblivion
For another
Riding on the tops of trains
Or inside boxcars
Camped out at a border
Waiting
Dislodged from history
Like tree branches broken off
And found on
The river’s edge
No climate-failed crops
No AK-47 Made In USA
No ballot box mishap
Or ambitious general
Trained in Georgia
Or coke sniffed in Manhattan
"I'm the king of the world"
None of the Marine invasions
Stacked up in the 20th C.
Like a teetering tower of grenades
Is why this is happening
We are agents of history
We forge the new reality
Though the consequences
Are not ours
After each of our gestures
Of Odyssean will
Of commerce
The line of history is cut
We are beyond
The dynamic of return
This we deliver to them
For them to endure and grow stronger
It is like a gift in that way
To be more like us
We will turn them away when they arrive
Thirsty and worn by the elements
Each historical moment
Appears in the field of time
As a firefly appears in the night
Glowing and disappearing
Unbound and gone
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