Chimayó Morada Con Flora

 

GTimothy Gordon

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Not the famous Penitentes’ Sanctuary

for spiritual healing dirt just a desert

roadside offering beside three black

Apache Tears’ stones looking more like

oblong pebbles set in no symbolic order,

small chamisa bouquet, brittlebush,

Apache plume, fronting tumbleweed rough,

gritty and spiked flora, no note, cryptic message,

rite or ritual food or cloth from presumed

Soul-Tie partner, and just as soon swept away

like all poor Toms laid a-cold by dust devil daily,

S’Wester scrum, summer and fall monsoon,

spirited somewhere, up mountain, above cloud,

Empyrean blue, even into ineffable light beyond,

who knows where remains deposit, no matter

what mistrusts of poem or image infer,

all we know a life lived, all we need to know.

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