I see Senora Sanchez
along the river.
Black catfish
pop the silver
water surface,
waves unroll
as the gnarled
bronze face and
black eyes
remember
cool sea shells
and warm turquoise,
the turkey gobbling
behind bushes,
and the red skirt
hanging on boughs
as she bathed….
She pulls her black sweater
snug around her, folded arms
across her stomach.
She who remembers
cannot say amen
but smiles to sunrise
as she walks through the grass,
      &nb sp;       &nbs p;       &nbsp ;       the tall,
      &nbs p;       &nbsp ;                green grass,
grass that does not listen to
       & nbsp;       &n bsp;       &nb sp;      the priest
in black robes, blooms green
as she walks through the grass
and talks with them.