by Ethel Mortenson Davis
I sleep
between the moons of New Mexico—
sunset and sunrise.
My bed is the yellow-ocher grasses
dotted with green juniper and piñon.
I am the summer sun climbing
from the life-giving phase
into the deadly phase–
like the rattlesnake,
deadly and life-giving,
that blends into the yellow grasses
as it careens along
the canyon’s face.
I cover myself
with the blue mountains,
with moon-like stars.
I am the spirit of wonderment.
I am a spell
upon every living being
in my path.
Copyright © 2010, I Sleep Between the Moons of New Mexico
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