Crickets click cords before the storm
between searing bolts
and shaken thunder; I listen to their
La Doña walks by, exuding a friendly
husk of life, her donkey burdens alfalfa bundles
The air is damp, climbing
from the nearby lake; I remain
transfixed in this land of fallen ash
The devil and the emperor bring
me tokens each day, a reflection of
youth trapped in age … and crows’
clawed feet gift the corners of my eyes.
Process notes: La Doña is a term of respect for a woman.