Taos In Three

see what happens in the loudest clouds
confusing a thousand absent skies
thousand twisted tongues
drowning out his conflictions
he challenges the whole
of the blue surround


then the garden's stone bench
whispers that her flowers are dancing 
he sees her dancing trees
sweet voices in the moan 
of a yearning Taos sun


a reservation dog pants 
in shadows black dust 
scratches madly at the flea of day
barks at tattoo girls in their wet summer dresses 
giggling in their own fleeing shadows

jppestana 9/11/16