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Secrets in the Sand [And the night was a precipice]

Marjorie Agosín

And the night was a precipice,
And the night was a hollow sound,
Beyond all depths and silences.
It was night in the city of Juárez and the dead women of Juárez
Protected the living ones.
It didn’t seem like a typical night at the border.
It seemed more like the drowsiness of a mute inferno
And flames transforming into knives.

Night in Juárez was a perverse mirror
Where death breathed its hollow
Trophies over the sand.

And night in the city of Juárez didn’t have a beginning or an end
Just fear
Just death.

Copyright © 2006 by Marjorie Agosìn. From Secrets in the Sand. Reprinted with permission of White Pine Press.

Copyright © 2006 by Marjorie Agosìn. From Secrets in the Sand. Reprinted with permission of White Pine Press.

Marjorie Agosín

by this poet

poem
I

She knew how to seduce her destiny,
predict the time of flight
In 1939, dressed in garments
of night and happiness
at the threshold of a fearful
Hamburg Harbor
resolved to live,
she sailed 
to Southern seas.

In 1938, the windows
of her house of water and stone
resisted the extreme
horror of that night
of