To the people of Monywa, Burma
He held her by her left hand the hand
he did not need to strike
and kept an eye over her shoulder
on the open pit the hunch of copper streaks
in the abused side of the hills
she’d known the way of the river well
when the water did not run bright blue
before it was dragged away for these prospections
she’ll be fine if she but remembers
on the furtherance of great things there is a tab
she’ll be safe she just needs to
let the other hand heal in the cast of this new
enormity keep her eyes down
her back loaded her feet moving
away from the smoking shacks
From Cry Wolf
Cristina Navazo-Eguía Newton 