Alkali lick blows to clean pack
near the spring pond
where coots huddle in bulrushes,
on past horned owl under bluff
the wind slips through greasewood,
mesquite, semesa, and ocotillo orange buds
that trace the same tossing as falcon tries,

dipping down the draw to rest a moment
on cozy pebbles, it gathers to leap again
to fray blasting deer trails over fences,
razors minutely over edges of flint chips
by teepee stones and grinding stones
to mill blades whirring water up
in violent spurts from below.

The howl sends herds of tumbleweeds
to catch in corral by the shack,
beats on brown medicine bottle half buried,
beats against rust on the chute,
against donkey shoe over door,

sends dust eddys down cracked window to filter in,
it wails with radio from Chihuahua singing,
“ya me voy, ya me voy, lejos de aqui.”

© Carlton Godbold 1987

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