More water in it, once, the Rio Grande -
even rapids roughed its winding run
through what was wall-less desert.
On its southern side, where trade has made
the border porous, maquiladoras sprawl
under an unremitting sun.
Country women travel here,
eager to toil in broiling factories -
a better fate than starving by degrees.
It’s spring. The cactus blooms, spectacular.
Hummingbirds sip nectar; hover
over hot springs on the Mexican side -
although they easily could cross
El Rio’s shifting width, without
presenting any visas or passports.
Denise Provost has published two poetry collections, and in Ibbetson Street, Muddy River Poetry Review, qarrtsiluni, Poetry Porch, Constellations, and Light Quarterly. Twice Pushcart-nominated, Provost won Best Love Sonnet in the 2012 Maria C. Faust Sonnet Competition, the 2021 Samuel Washington Allen Prize, and was elected co-president of New England Poetry Club in 2022.
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