Leo Cruz makes the most beautiful white bowls;
I think I must get some to you
but how is the question
in these times
He is teaching me
the names of the desert grasses;
I have a book
since to see the grasses is impossible
Leo thinks the things man makes
are more beautiful
than what exists in nature
and I say no.
And Leo says
wait and see.
We make plans
to walk the trails together.
When, I ask him,
when? Never again:
that is what we do not say.
He is teaching me
to live in imagination:
a cold wind
blows as I cross the desert;
I can see his house in the distance;
smoke is coming from the chimney
That is the kiln, I think;
only Leo makes porcelain in the desert
Ah, he says, you are dreaming again
And I say then I’m glad I dream
the fire is still alive