DOLORES and the COYOTE

Your eyes and his both fail to mask

the ulterior of your motive.

Be that as it may, for the saguaro has crossed his arms

in formidable defense and yet,

somehow I suspect the monsoon thunderclap

and all your lightning bolts

may just be enough to flood my arroyos

with the wasted flash floods

of your erosive summer runoff.

There will be no fertile mesas here,

No maize, no ristras of tears and corazons.

The gila, the roadrunner, and the sidewinder

all bear witness in silent testimony

to your treacherous idea

so that only you, I and the coyote can ever guess

what truly hides behind that sly sideward

and narrow eyed glance

now pregnantly paused in the evening desert dust

Ah no Dolores, not even the millions

of stars in your night sky galaxy will be enough

to eclipse the darkness that surrounds

my heart as another of your nimbus

and your cumulus break open

to further wash clean my barren soul

No, I have no regret Dolores

But you may want to ask the coyote

What he really believes

Is hidden behind your smile.