April 2013

San Isidro Well

Silent broken stones
Ochre glow in winter sun
Sillar blocks rise, open teeth
Stained and cracked, warm
Cave for ancient insects
Caught in forever homes.

Darkened trough, head high
Where cattle drank
And men fought thirst
In mesquite green shade
Teased a tarantula and
Bid the old west goodbye.

—Karen Gerhardt Fort

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