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Collected Poetry

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poetry and digital art

Diesel Eddy  

Book three of impromptu trilogy.

  Aguajito


A bit pensive, she opens the bathroom door and moves
across the arroyo pardo.  Evening is coming on
and I watch as she approaches her little pool.
There is less foot traffic to greet

across the arroyo where evening is coming on
and that which hurries to do so, does so.
There is less foot traffic to greet
among the sagebrush running off in natural patterns.

That which hurries to take place does so
to discover; I watch with interest as she moves
among the sagebrush running off in natural patterns
as if this were a necessary consequence

of its discovery, and my interest in how she moves.
For a while I'm attentive to some people in sandals
as if that too were a necessary consequence
of the songs on their radio.  The wind ripples and

for a while I'm attentive to some people in boots
who catch as a little pain in my head
like a bad song on a radio.  The wind ripples and
surprises Señor Sanchez in his laborious situation

that catches as a little pain in his thigh:  it swirls
behind him on the hillside and then drifts down
and frees Señor Lopez from his lugubrious situation;
the arroyo glistens.  It sparkles

behind town below the hillside and then moves
toward her bathroom door.  And when, and when
she opens it the arroyo glistens with sparkle.
I watch as she descends her little pool.



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