Puerto Vallarta, Mexico

Story ID:	155
Written by:	ange crawford (bio, other stories)
Organization:	dawgma international
Story type:	Poem
Location:	Corvallis OR USA
Year:	1995
Person:	Jean

PUERTO VALLARTA, MEXICO

Anxious brown faces, shaded by large-brimmed hats,

All hurrying to work in shops and factories.

Where are the beautiful, placid faces of the Indians I knew?

Drawn into the maelstrom of our century.

I hear a wailing down by the sea,

Wailing for what used to be.

Streets of stones, concrete, adobe,

Taxies rushing here and there.

Where are the meandering lanes of old?

Now only history, they have all disappeared.

I hear a wailing down by the sea,

Wailing for what used to be.

Tiny lizards in a tree, on a wall,

Out of place in this modern world.

Where are all those fierce protectors of the land?

Stuffed, in a shop, waiting for the tourista.

I hear a wailing down by the sea,

Wailing that must come from me.