Western Juarez- Granjas de Progreso
Plump speckled hen
clutched to my chest
carried as a child
or as some other heavy
load.
And my husband with the rooster,
talons tied
- we made such a sight
even Tarahumara women laughed
at the unlikelyness of it all-
sunburned gringa
and brown, mestizo farmer
- there, in the desert
walking down that
hot, dusty road.
This poem is about:
Me
My family
My country