Aspens, Northern New Mexico, 1955

looking for water and trees
          they left the pueblo

                  moved past the canyon

                       found a creek that
             flowed all year    they

               honey combed the cliffs
                   Earth soft enough

                             so a child could
                                  dig with his fingers

                                        Aspen petals like snow
                        they wove cotton     the

                   sun on their faces
                               glazed this clay

until something with a
            huge mouth

                      moved into their houses