One brown helicopter and four white green vans:
The United States Border Patrol at work (the law, always the law) in a wet cold twilight.
Down and down, circle upon circle, drops the helicopter,
Closer and closer to a lone oak in a brown pasture
The vans near ….
And from two sides of the thick trunk come two dark men,
Arms raised ….
Immigrants caught and surrendered, almost willingly.
Cold, wet, thirsty, hungry – just miles short of eluding a checkpoint,
Then on to Houston and work.
The helicopter never landed, and is high off to more pastures and trees.
The four vans wait until a small caged truck rolls up,
And into it step the crouched men.
The twilight now a near-black night ….
Eugene “Gene” Novogrodsky, early April 2015