Descent from Moctezuma

The desert of Sonora

stretched out like a brown floor

below the gray rocks

where we descended

zigzag

down the pale Sierras

in a rusted, red bus

that smelled of diesel and dust.

Nothing

mystical occurred,

just the blur

of passing cacti

around an endless curve

edged ever so close

to the shouts of blue sky.

                           -- C. S. Cholas, April 1986,

                               Sonora, Mexico