Mango Elote, Safeway watermelon, pink skies
mooned nights, grainy mountains, cold rock,
sitting in the parking lot while his mother was shot.
Little red houses, driving through Granite,
skeleton daisies, cold rock, and long walks alone,
the pit bull who sat at the window he had cracked.
Black rail spikes, running along the railroad tracks,
a reel of crossties, lamb’s-ear on black rock,
the railway, the river, and the road all below the eagle.
Too many bell peppers and Cheerios but not enough food,
the whole town reeked floral at the turn to dirt road,
the five-fingered mountain cradling my home.