Luci Tapahonso (3)

Tsaile April Nights
Luci Tapahonso
em Blue Horses Ruch In

Earlier today, thin sheets of red dirt
folded into the dark mountain
blown up from the western desert floor. You know,
the whole, empty Navajo spaces around
Many Farms, Chinle, Round Rock. Later, light rain slanted into the valley. The female paused for an hour or so. She sat and watched us awhile,
then clouds of mist waited until evening and left. The male rain must have been somewhere over the mountain,
near Cove or Beclabito, chasing children and puppies indoors. But here, the quiet snow will move in
a newborn breathing
those first new nights. The lake is frozen,
a glazed white plate suspended in the dark. I long to hear your voice. Hushed, deep murmurs in the cold quiet,
and low laughter echoing in the still. I like to sleep with piñon smoke. The cold dry air chills my skin, my breath. Stories descend into the dark,
warm, light circles. Oh these nights. My blessed bounty of dreams.

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