REMEMBERING HUTU AND TUTSI FRIENDS, NOW DEAD
In my dreams, you’re still
long grass-limbed,
cricket-throated,
fiery star-faced
as the feverish Burundi night.
In my thoughts, you’re still
cool wind-wrapped,
red dust-powdered,
eucalyptus-scented
as Burundi’s uncertain dawn.
Frenchman's Bay, Maine
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