Painter, Photographer, and Writer

Luz' Dreams

This is tahe dusty mansion
Where lives Pancho Villa’s widow
Luz Corral, half-asleep, slumped over
In her sepia shawl of memories
Musty with history's dreams
Not of his lusty campfollowers
Of whom she was jealous
Not his long absences
Not of the crackling bullets
Nor his blood-soaked massacre
In Parral’s streets

 But of walls that yodel of victorious battle
Of boisterous lust under star-freckled skies
Or behind velvet curtains that muffled love's racket
She murmurs in her sleep, wasted muscles shift
Feels the mustached kisses and urgent caresses
Of her barbaric renegade, hero of the North
Ay, mi cielo,her wrinkled lips sigh
¿Dόnde estás, mi corazόn?
Where are you?

 A dusty tear snails down her cheek's furrows
She remembers fruitless moons
The mourn for an empty womb
Curls her arms around her phantom infant
Strokes his feathered scalp
Gathers the indigo drapes of her rebozo
To wrap him warm and safe
Quédate conmigo, mi amor, mi rey
Stay with me always, my love, my king.