Rainy Season Above Guadalajara

                              For Cynthia, Rio Caliente October 1996

Late afternoons there rage with storms:

The wild hills dance in waves of blaze.

Electric laughter stuns the air

And shorts the strings of man-made light.

Our darkened village huddles down

Within the river’s steaming arm.

Like lanterns, fires in every hearth

Make safely sure of warmth and glow.

The shapes of women, radiant, pose

In robes that draw them down to sleep.

A thunder shudders quiet beds,

Yet no fear knocks in peaceful hearts.