The Passing At The Canyon

They were themselves passing, passing the man
with one leg shorter as if he was just another
stone along their path. The man was simply himself
and the stone itself was ever more sad for the man.

Having seen so many passings and their children wearied them
the feel of the daylight soothed them when the wind,
coming from an open canyon, blew their tired faces.

To cross the canyon, without cutting around it
or without letting the soldiers discover them, they walked
on the fallen tree that bridges two worlds.

Parents forbade their children
to look below or ever mention what was below.

Some children managed to glance
and saw what was a body, face down, wearing brightly
colored clothes, like the traditional clothes their mothers wore.

But they did not know the meaning of these colors.
They were frightened of it, lying on sharp rocks below.
The sight of this passing left the children wondering
how many more passings are left to see.