In September,

when summer

lingers in the valley,

the sky hovers low

and dusky over the city.

Few brave the hot pavement.

Children hide

in curtained bedrooms

gazing at flickering screens,

grown-ups sequester

themselves in air-conditioned boxes

apartments, offices, sedans.

 

No one sees

Saint Francis arising

from concrete statuary,

the Virgin of Guadalupe

stepping out of a mural

angels peeking

out of whorls and knot holes

on an unpainted fence.