In a public park by the University of Texas at Brownsville, down the street from la garita
I had just parked there to head over to the library and continue reading "With These Hands", about those who labor in the fields in often oppressive conditions for their livelihood, allowing American Agriculture to run and the American People to choose from its cornucopia of fruits and vegetables in the supermarket
Three men running while the SUVS, white with the cheeerful green stripe of the Border Patrol, tore across the median and roared after the three dark shadows, running frantically, running chaotically
As if it was the run of their life
One of them almost hit by the SUV, then doubling back into the woods behind the parking lot
Suddenly from nowhere, a green ATV came streaking across the parking lot toward the woods, a camouflaged agent began his descent, while back up agents in a mounting drove of vehicles gathered across the street, to the left
I didn't know where the other dark shadows had gone to but I hoped they had somehow found freedom - I hoped they would be all right -
I didn't know what to hope for, but I felt a deep and useless grief in the pit of my stomach
and I got into my car and exited with a couple of other cars that had been waiting out the chase
It's no surprise here, next to the border, to see what must be routine, daily. For it to cross over into the public spaces of the city when the city lives in the light and shadows of its sister country
And who here would place blame on either side of the chase? It could be that each is just trying to survive. In a city where both sides have grown up together, have evolved in co-dependence, share kinship with each other, it must be even harder.
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