He wanders through the crooked streets
that mimic river beds Before
and breathes the anxious air in traffic
filled with tension left from wooded crossroads in attack
He shops the windows, happy,
where the stalking once was good
and his kitchen floor is built on bones
of venison once gently roasted.
"It's a good place for a party!" he concurs
to friends now dressed in jeans.
The ground was already beaten smooth
and festive by the joy of ancient dances.
He feels the warmth,
and doesn't know his soul is filled
with the spirit of coyotes past.
Carmen Tafolla, "Aquí" from Curandera. Copyright © 2012 by Carmen Tafolla. Reprinted by permission of Wings Press.
(Wings Press, 2012)