hear when the Gypsies
arrived,
the sound of hooves
and wheels on the street,
in Castelldefells as their wagon pulled
up behind two
sagging
horses.
the man out front
would stiffen the reins,
then they'd stop.
out from the tented
trough would
come a woman
draped in a black sheet,
holding
up a crying naked
baby towards the sun.
it glistened like
a raisin.
we watched from the window
as my mother
would go to them
with money in her hand.
trying to fight off
the curses
that eventually still
would come.
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