NO TRESPASSING
In San Miguel the walls
Are thick and high and topped
With shards of broken glass:
Translucent, they glint in the sun.
Above us on the hillside,
Ranks of towering cacti
Guard their fruit with poisoned
Darts ready to fire.
Although young boys can climb
The organ pipes, unscratched,
To pick their small berries,
They do not scale the walls.
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