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