Analysis Of The Poem Perro - 1134 Words

â€Å"Perro!† Maria called as she wandered the deep, dense forest of Mexico. As she walked along the hidden trail in her torn pale, blue skirt, tan top, and long, thick, black hair sweeping behind her. A still rustle of a nearby bush triggered her curiosity. Maria slowly stooped over and parted the thick, scratchy leaves and there lay Perro enjoying a duck wing. â€Å"Come Perro we mustn t be late, Don’t you want to get praise from home for this duck.† Sprinting through vines, spider webs, and marshy land they finally where in view of the small town of cardboard, it wasn t much, but to Maria it was home. â€Å"Maria!† squealed a tiny woman. â€Å"Oh mama, I missed you.† You see, Maria had been away in the dark sketchie forest on a hunting trip, trying to†¦show more content†¦As she pondered the strange words in her mind, repeating them over and over again. Still lying on the old destroyed mattress lifeless, died. The hours passed and she mi ssed the football game. Now you need to know that football is soccer, and soccer is football in Mexico. Strange, right? Slowly drifting away, words a swirling wind of nothing and suddenly sleeping soundly. If you can’t tell, the thought of school frightened her. Not knowing or understanding what was going to happen, confused, it was a blizzard of uncertainty swirling about her. The following morning the crisp air and golden sun flowed brilliantly into her room through the open window. The posts of the window where scratched up wood with an old part of a blond colored sheet covering it. Her sleepy eyes blinked slowly as the day began. After a whole evening and morning with the thought of school, a tornado of yes, no, maybe, and back again spiraling around. This went on about the dreary feeling morning. Her usual smile upside down and the sides drooping far down. When she finally got up and out of the rickety, springy feeling frame of the puffy stuffing, cloud like bed. Hesitantly climbing down the ladderShow MoreRelatedPablo Neruda2632 Words   |  11 PagesInside the syllables I want to touch the fire in the sound: I want to feel the darkness of the cry. I want words as rough as virgin rocks. Verbo Voy a arrugar esta palabra, voy a torcerla , sà ­, es demasiado lisa, es como si un gran perro o un gran rà ­o le hubiera repasado lengua o agua durante muchos aà ±os. Quiero que en la palabra se vea la aspereza, la sal ferruginosa la fuerza desdentada de la tierra, la sangre de los que hablaron y de los que no hablaron.