Paradise Cemetery

her grave surrounded by nameless orphaned babies,

scorched scrub oaks

mixed and tasted her teas,

prescribing cures for tuberculosis and la escarlatina

fond of her new home,

she settled in the valley outside Cave Creek

spoke broken English,

occasionally seen in town

mailing a letter to her husband in Zamora,

shopping for sugar or 25¢ hairbrushes

weekends she’d drag her plant sack through the hills

followed by two collie dogs,

hoping to spot a trogon parrot or secret deer

on the tenth of July when the rains came

she fell ill,

silence her only ally

and she died as suddenly as the rains left

her daughter returning to Deming,

this time for good

in ’63 she was remembered

with a burial marker

through the “kind graces” of the Paradise Cemetery Committee

greenyellow plastic flowers stab at the graveyard dirt,

charcoal clouds veil the late afternoon sun,

mountain jays screech like maniacs

fighting over some burnt out weeds

yes, Mexican madwoman

now's the time,

run from this boneyard

before the first reckless drops of rain

once again stab at

this barren crumbling ground

Paradise, AZ

1980