To Pablo Neruda for his Canto General
By
David Rogers Jr
Pampas of blood, deserts of sorrow.
Your land, Pablo, suffered like
The Forgotten in dictators’
Cells covering your continent,
A land shaped like an arrow
To the heart.
Your land, Pablo, of secrecy
And terror and deep green and
Brown beauty.
It seemed mystical, unreal,
A...