BY LEVI ROMERO
Destinations
tonight the stars are bright and plentiful and with our necks craning up toward the sky we stand attempting to identify the constellations and trying to distinguish the satellites from the jets and the stars I planted the last of the garden today chile, arbejón, cebolla, rabanitos several days ago it was the maíz melones, sandías, calabacitas a warm breeze is blowing across the orchard there has been mention of ghosts and spirits of relatives who come to visit that they move through the fields stooped over like burma grass in the wind las grullas will fly over the village tomorrow northward, their long necks piercing the skyI Breathe the Cottonwood
I take the sagebrush scent in The folding hills The heat of the asphalt Twenty-seven minutes past noon Past the historic marker And the twisted metal road sign The yellow apple dotted orchards The alfalfa I take it all in For you my brothers And sistersLying on rubber mattresses In your jail pods Finger-nailing the names Of your loved ones On styrofoam cups The cactus flower puckers Its sweet magnolia lips For you today Its prickly arms stretching Up toward the clouds and the sky Las mesas, los arroyitos, los barrancos El Río GrandeLa urraca, el cuervo The cigarette butt pinched And yellowed, the crunched Beer cans on the roadside I take it all in Past the presa and the remanse The swimming hole Where you frolicked in the water With your first crush Her hair wet and pasted Against the slant of her forehead Her bare shoulders glistening con l’agua bendita Throughout the valley Las milpas de maíz Are lined in processions Their powdery tassels Swaying back and forth Like pueblo feast day dancers Atrás, adelante, atrás, adelante Heya, heya, heya, ha Past the ancient flat roofed houses Like loaves of bread and their Backyard hornos with their black Toothless mouths yawning The acequias’ lazy gurgle The tortolita’s mid-afternoon murmur The cleansing cota flower Los chapulines, las chicharras El garambullo, el capulín For you, my brothers and sisters The willow, the mud puddles Reflecting brown the earth’s skin I take it all in