Two Hoods

Two men came in the morning cold Leaving the unmarked car downstairs; Whitemen, callous and still bold Knocking at the door. Sun dried our tears Since. This wind plucked a fruit before. Manuel was only a farm worker, His wife nurse children across the shore. His child here, will not die of hunger, We swear. Such a shame though. They should At least inform us where they took them. History stalks again under the hood. Maria has lit a candle for all of them, The yellow flame - so impotent falls A shadow on the limp, bleak walls. \So in each darkness we huddle and wait For the men with power over our fate.