Near Tamazunchale at Dawn

Near Tamazunchale at Dawn

                                    Low-flung clouds roam across pastures

                                    along the swollen rivers

                                    like ghosts seeking secret hiding spots

                                    among cattle and in fissures,

                                    behind fence posts and run-down barns.

                                    Like a threadbare tablecloth,

                                    the fog rends into shreds that flee

                                    as fugitives begging shelter

                                    within thickets of wind-bent trees 

                                    and among barefaced knolls                          

                                    before the sun's piercing eye peers

                                    over the eastern peaks to slay them

                                    with it's fierce, cyclopean stare.

                                                            -- C. S. Cholas

                                                                        9 September 1998,

                                                San Luis Potosí, México