Waste land

This entry is part 3 of 16 in the series Postcards from a Conquistador

Poem: 'The land gets under my skin and festers. Its native inhabitants dwindle from unknown causes. Old-world weed seeds germinate in the crevasses of my bootprints.'

(For an uncaptioned version of the photo, see here.)

Series Navigation← Off the mapIgnorance →


Leave a Reply