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a poem for Efrain BartolomÃ
by Kevyn Clark

one night
I heard a voice
speak poetic rivers and stars
over leopard jungles
and there stood this man
dressed in white
reading,
rain forests
in his pockets
and I could hear
the rustle of forest animals
when he moved
his feet.

his words
floated across the room to me
and landed powerfully
on my face
a push
a forceful brush across my cheek
with falcon feathers
scented of tree bark
and mountain winds
blowing from Chiapas
a welcome
from a foreign
place.

I was graced
with an audience
a book
a signature
from a new friend
and a voice
that told me histories
in slow syllables
comfortable meanderings
between our languages
his words
translated themselves
and they were the same
as mine
a blessing.


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