GARDEN OF ROCKS

artwork: ralph murre

GARDEN OF ROCKS

by Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

I sit in a garden of rocks.
I watch the woman of
the house burying a dead bird.

She begins to sing like the dead
bird. Her hair flaps in the
wind. Her head bobs up and down.

I see her lay flowers over
the grave. The day is sad
in this garden of rocks. I sit.

I’m restless like the wind. I want
to go and salute the
dead bird. But I lay down instead.

I sleep and have a lazy dream,
where a fragile bird dies.
I do not see how it happens.

I see only the gentle bird
down in my lazy dream.
I caress its soft, injured head.

I am awakened by the scent
of the flowers. The blue sky
and the green trees appear sad.

The woman of the house sings like
the dead bird. Her perfume
extinguishes death’s scent. Inside

she opens up a window and
she sings like the dead bird.
In a garden of rocks, I cry.

~ previously published in Garden of Rocks (Kendra Steiner Editions)

AS ONE WOULD SAY . . .

photoart: karen mcclintock

AS ONE WOULD SAY, GO FORWARD MY FRIEND

by Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

Luis Omar Salinas

walks through the hills of Spain

in a dream.

Miguel Hernandez walks at his side.

In the quiet night

they listen to

mockingbirds

softly singing.

Salinas says

to Hernandez,

I need to be alone.

Go forward, my friend, says Hernandez.

Luis Omar contemplates death.

He knows Hernandez is

a ghost, but also a

helpful guide and friend.

Hernandez walks away whistling.

Luis Omar looks to the sky.

There is a full moon.

He feels at home.

His dream takes him

to Central California.

His hands are calloused

and mulberry trees

appear in the distance.

Hernandez is with him again.

They are children playing

with imaginary swords

in a dusty field.

No one draws blood

in this dream like heaven.

Hernandez and Salinas say goodbye.

Miguel Hernandez walks

through the hills of Spain;

Luis Omar strolls

under a Fresno moon.

~  first published in Pemmican