Lying in a Creekbed

By Joshua Silavent

(Painting by Arthur Boyd)

Miguel was driving home exhausted from work late one night,

as the truck crested the hill he could see the dancing police lights.

There was no turning back this time

so through the checkpoint he flew,

past the arms and barrels raised

by the army of boys in blue.

He feared deportation and at the future Miguel stared,

just the thought as he fled of la familia for whom he cared.

When the spike strips stopped him bare

out the door he jumped and ran,

it was pure instinct flowing

just trying to escape the man.

Guapo, when are you coming home?

One last time before your soul is gone, I hope –

Miguel dodged and ducked his way into a shallow creekbed,

that’s where he met fate and a bullet filled with lead.

When the gunshot echoed behind his head

face first in the water he fell under,

buried in a forgotten instant and

his family left to wonder.

The D.A. ruled it justified and kept the video of the kill,

now panic runs from D.C. all the way to Gainesville.

When the raids come you better keep still

inside your home and any corner bodega,

’cause the wolves are howling loud tonight

as the alpha meets the omega.

Guapo, when are you coming home?

One last time before your soul is gone, I hope –

I pray.