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The Night of San Juan

Behind these thick Old City walls

a maroon soul still climbs

cliffs like a mountain goat,

waterfalls run away from

El Yunque’s blistering side,

and plots survive

slipping out of shuttered doors.

Here you can count on

the one dagger they will thrust,

a long look into your soul

to protect you from crimes

only colonial towns know

when resistance is ground

into the dust.


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