MAY DAY 2019 …

Born harshly, like a strong hammer – predetermined to strike constantly, seeking justice and reaffirming identities. Hands were opened and extended, arms offered strength & empathy – he waited, and waited. Echoes from long struggles would remind him to be careful, not everything is what it seems, a little voice kept repeating. His father before him had been born tough as well – around cats and dogs in the neighbourhood, hard breads, and bitter harvest – a childhood of shaken earth, broken dreams, and shattered promises. Indifference walked by; hot asphalt melting, men and women behind the plough – people at a distance, steering, childhoods disappearing – walking over the stones. They persevered, harsh faces, serious talks, wanted to be someone – painfully barefooted – internal shame because other kept falling through the cracks and kids were forgotten. They look to the old guard – and a new regime takes over – what would happen now? A poet in the corner observes – for sometimes they had celebrated hope, felt as if they mattered to political leaders, policymakers and the choir of civil society voices. Could the old union be counted upon? Is the food bank in the barrio the new statistical unfolding – does “cutting red tape” could also means falling further behind? Hard to tell; his wife and kids were now looking at him, worriedly wondering …

Leo Campos A. ©
Edmonton, AB (Canada)


Fast Car, by Tracy Chapman © ELEKTRA Records

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