We drive past
old poetry, crossroads
with well-worn treads, old ruts
cut through vast thorn-brush regions.
Ranchlands with broken fences
hold things I don’t begin
to understand; home
for creatures who I can
only vaguely name,
like some
large unidentified hawk
now perched high upon a canopy
of old electric wire posts,
nor can I ever know
why fast growing
tepeguaje
is so prone to shed
large branches in fierce
windborn storms.
We pass signs,
discarded clothing,
torn shreds that blow as tattered flags
surrendered upon barbed wire
fencelines, within this
gust of wind-made sandsheet,
caliche & scarce water,
where dark wing shadows
crisscross roadways,
seek morning feasts left behind
from last night’s carnage.
Ancient home of sharp thorns,
of los ebanos & granjeno,
where hidden dangers rattle
dry gourd warnings, where perils
abound in glancing edges. Abandoned
on nocturnal coyote crossings,
hide faces we glimpse but
do not know,
nor do we claim.
Caminos del desierto, which
lead the ill prepared through unknown
places, remain a last
desperate option for unnamed
strangers, who as farolitos
wander until freedom
becomes but a heat mirage;
a hope extinguished,
another name
forever vanished
in a land of dry bones
scattered upon parched red earth
as sun bleached mesquite beans
found hidden beneath some
shimmering August
afternoon.
~ Elizabeth Perdomo
Introduction/Background: Crossroads, first published in “Interstice,” began during a long drive back to the Rio Grande Valley from a visit to South Carolina. About a month prior to this road trip, Perdomo read, “The Sand Sheet,” written by local South Texas author and naturalist, Mr. Arturo Longoria. On the long road homeward, she drove along the edge of the Sand Sheet in Brooks County, Texas. Although she had driven that route many times before, she was able to see and observe things in a different light, and with much greater understanding of the complex life, habitat interactions, and sometimes, the deaths which occur in this harsh, beautiful land.
Elizabeth Perdomo, born in Emporia, Kansas, raised in Winfield, has written poetry since a teen. “One Turn of Seasons,” includes her poetry and another’s photography. Recently, her poems appeared in “Kansas Time + Place,” “Interstice” and “The Chachalaca Review.” Perdomo now lives in the Rio Grande Valley of Texas.
Matthew David Manning holds degrees in creative writing from Arizona State University and Pittsburg State University. His poetry has appeared various publications including I-70 Review, Red Paint Hill, Rust + Moth, Kansas Time + Place, and Chiron Review. He recently became a father and has been enjoying his transition into high school education at Wyandotte High School in Kansas City, KS.
Editor’s response to this poem: What stood out to me the most in this poem was how busy all the objects were. They all have jobs, and the poet seemed to always be unintentionally getting in their way. Like the poet, I too have questions for the ranchlands, but maybe I’m too proud to ask.
Seek the wild places,
The Coop: A Poetry Cooperative 