El Paseo

Sitting in dusk’s smoke 
Evening cook fires dot skyline
           I watch

Mesquite whiffs tantalize nostrils
Mescal burns throat, catches breath
           I recall

Roasted peppers dress flat steak
Fried beans bubble and pop
          I am here

Across the arroyo, quail gabble 
Cardboard offers humble shelters
           I shed a tear

With darkness comes night’s fog
Steam rises off blanketed backs
           I come alive

The cold cactus moon silhouetted
No Goya or bolero here
         I remember,  

          Old Me’xico

Art, graphics, prose and poetry are by Snofire/Llora.
Copyright © 2006 Snofire/Llora
All Rights Reserved

View guestbook