Boquillos Canyon →

in

Published by Kallisto Gaia Press, 15 July 2018, in "Texas Poetry Calendar 2019."

Boquillas Canyon

Sheltered by reeds, we baptize     
our bodies in the Rio Grande,
then dry on dusky sand,
watching the sunset stigmata
the towering limestone walls
             Time is a canyon-forming epoch.

Swift darkness submerges us
beneath cold, black waves,
overpowering senses too use to
the incessant, incandescent
orange haze of the city.
             Time is a flash flood on the desert.

A sliver of moon appears
in the glowing stream of stars
as creosote, ocotillo, and sotol
form spectral shapes
against the limitless sky.      
             Time is a twisted madrone tree.

The old gods stare down
from their mountain perch,
impassive and immutable.
What atonement can we offer
for our trespass?     
            Time is nothing to the infinite.