Jemez

          Sometimes it is like

          facing the dreamer

          who knows the you

          of blood and stars—

          and you talk out

          the winter,

          horses neighing

          at the razor sky.

          And the dreamer leaves.

          Maybe you never see

          the dreamer again—

          but coming toward you

          are Jemez Mountains

          opened red

                             like the sun going down

          against

                    soft earth.