Slender whirlwinds coming from the sky
touch the land.
Sounds of arrows striking the ground
roaring
raising dust clouds.
He shouts, warning of the days of danger.
I stand on the peak of Red Mountain.
He comes toward me
shouting.
My heart is a stone.
I shout, I declare it.
Anonymous Americas
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-vision-of-a-giant-who-migrated-from-baja-to-tiburon-island/
