“Little Mexico”
R
ED peppers on adobe walls
Light up the little dusty street.
Each small yard holds a splash of bloom:
Nasturtiums, or the bitter-sweet
Of marigolds. The children play
In brown dirt, brown as their dark skins.
The old fence corners hold their heaps
Of broken cartons, rusty tins.
Not much of beauty anywhere—
Until from out a sagging gate
A young girl comes—and suddenly
Beauty is here, so bright, so great,
It grasps the heart, it stays the breath!
Her hair, blue-black, her cheeks as red
As her native dress or the glittering strings
Of scarlet peppers above her head,
While all of Youth with its quick bright flame
Leaps up, and cries aloud for a name.
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