Poetry of Issue #7        Page 39

The Wind Blew
(Puerto Rico after Hurricane María)
        by Myrna Nieves
translated from the Spanish by Judith Escalona

The wind blew
And frightened the birds
The wind blew 
Trees trembled
Rivers flowed from the sky and clouded the eyes of the houses
Tarred roadways cracked  
Bridges fainted over waters
And
          none

			could
					breathe

						    There was nothing to eat or drink

								  T.h.e.r.e. w.a.s. n.o. o.n.e. t.o. c.a.l.l.

Orphaned by the light, neighbors gathered together under the fear of night
The desolation of a new inscrutable century reigned
	Cows hanging from broken lamp posts
	Horses, swollen and pale, lay rigid by the river's edge
	"Help us," was written in chalk on the highways
	But the helicopters would not land

And the foreign news showed "ethnic" faces
With curiosity and passing shock
A president threw rolls of paper towels at the crowd, imitating basketball players
The ships with help were intercepted and restricted.
	Let them sink, was the message.
	Let them die, was the signal.
	Let them go to hell, they spat in street slang.
	Let them sell everything so we can buy cheap
	And restore the beauty of the countryside
	The delight of the beaches
	The majesty of the mountains
	The glory of the dawns 
	For the tourists and millionaires, it will be ideal
	New gold mines for the new-old colonizers

But not all of them died
Neither did everyone leave 
A new unity grew like the reflourishing trees 
Among neighbors
And they cooked what little there was and ate together
Cried together
Loved each other together, in their misfortune

And they did not give up

From afar their Diaspora extended a hand like a colossal branch
They sent supplies, collected money 
Gave what little or more they possessed
They opened their doors and hearts 
The road will be hard but we will walk it together, they said
And the reconstruction will be different
The dream will be transformed by lucidity and justice

While they argue the ideal future, according to some 
Or a delirious fantasy, according to others
Between what seemed to be the sparkle of solar panels
In the distance of a mountain or a neighborhood
In front of a roofless house

A girl pricked up her ear
	     Raised her hand, pointed to the heavens
		        Above, flying before the new sun were silhouettes Š
 
It's just that finally the rainforest parrots were returning to paradise
And the gray kingbirds began to be heard in the greenest jewel of the Earth.