this isn’t Central Ave in Albuquerque
this isn’t Central Ave in Albuquerque
not by a long shot,
this tight, narrow Boston street,
in the neighborhood I call home,
the place I live,
not love,
but the sharp thrill of hot peppers
on my palate, crispy tortilla, cheese
makes me see those plate glass windows
at the Frontier Restaurant
dimming brilliant blue New Mexico sky
above the University.
where I make my home is not my heart’s home,
not where I roam, visions of soaring grandeur in my head,
vistas so broad only the eagle eye can take it all in.
airplane flight from BOS to ABQ and a short ride
in that hot rental car
going along Central looking for familiar pale yellow,
a wake up call to the wide Southwestern landscape.
home-cooked food, cafeteria style,
and I have arrived, settled in a moment
with my plate full of New Mexico enchiladas, green chile stew.
even in the confines of the state’s largest city,
a sprawl that crawls up the
foothills of Sandia Peak,
so sated
I am here.
© Natasha Schneider
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Storm Star
At Taos Pueblo
Storm Star’s wife is dead,
her passing taking his support
the structure of family crumbled like Anasazi ruins.
He goes on
currying and saddling the village horses
for fast-mouthed white tourists,
their hearts blank to his loss
as they seek two hours of trespass
on sacred Indian land.
Horses remain horses,
pushing strong bodies around the corral,
resisting harnesses, wriggling beneath worn saddles,
flinching folded skin
wounded into cinch sores.
© Natasha Schneider
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Stray
lean like an old cowboy
on a windy day,
the dog walks sideways,
purposeful in the dark
I duck my head, look away,
not sure of his intentions,
as I veer slightly right
to give him space
along the road’s edge
after passing, he pauses,
looks back at me
as I look back at him
“hey there, sunshine,”
my quiet voice in the starry night
then he remembers
who and what he is
and hurries into the supermarket parking lot
© Natasha Schneider
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the highway to Albuquerque
25 South, Sandia Crest on the left
hot blue sky hinting haze
pinon and scrubby bushes
all impressioned in my mind
til late at night
I close my tired eyes
while brushing teeth
and see it stamped there
behind eyelids
I am an eagle
flying low above it
not some romantic, perfect
New Mexico,
just the land
by the highway
clearly seen, known, acknowledged
© Natasha Schneider
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