El Poco Tiempo

Potrero

Take a long pasear with me,

And strange things you shall surely see:

A grassed poirero, hidden low,

In an old lava flood split flow.

And I, Ramön, close watch do keep

On the nibble-nibble of my sheep.

Who knows? It may be, all too soon,

A reaper reaps with the sickle moon.

Then row on row of windrows lie

Upturned to peep-holes of the sky. . . .

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What the stars see, and what they say,

That is for words of another day;

But I, Ramén, have seen strange sights,

When the flock is safe, potrero nights-

A reaper reaps with the sickle moon,

Lost souls ride flames to the devil's tune.

Ghosts

Bare cottonwoods you may look at,

Stretching white arms to a cold sky.

But I see pale ghosts march by,

Up the Jemez.

Pedro says he has seen

Where ghosts hide,

On a far mountain side,

Up the Jemez... .

What Pedro has seen come and go

Is for sign of the cross, bending low.

Placita .

When a placita goes to sleep,

Jose leaves his weary sheep.

When a placita wakes-this:

On Chiquita's mouth a kiss. :

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