Poems by Dorsía Smith Silva
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On I-95 at 2:28 A.M.
by Dorsía Smith Silva
From Canary Summer 2019
Dorsia lives in the Río Piedras Watershed, which also goes by the name of the San Juan Estuary Watershed.
They own the road,
trotting beneath yellow lights,
breathing wild-eyed,
fierce, and brave.
How they dart zigzag
between the cars
like bouncing pennies
along the asphalt.
Here, they roam
past the ladder of medians
with an easy sashay
over ripped concrete.
Like some newday spirits coming,
they spread out fanlike,
pant and stare,
rushing past the metal thickets,
nourished by the marrows of dark.
© Dorsía Smith Silva