Flight of a Fledgling By Lara Gularte

They travel on faith, a journey of uncertainty.

Humankind crossing through a desert brown and bleeding.

Her mami leads her by the hand till sun erases horizon,

and a large man’s hands grab her, pull her into a cavern of small faces.

In this American land, her body adjusts itself under mylar,

her crucifix dropping a tear on her chest.

Rows of lost orphans’ curl-up where they can, shoes in a pile,

baby teeth in a box.

She sinks into dream, her mami a hummingbird,

hovering above her.

Something inside her breathes

a chest full of swallows.

In an uncertain sky she flies,

distances south, and then north--again.