Monday, July 10, 2006

Southwest The End: Anasazi Rising

Presently at Mummy Cave Ruins

It’s lunchtime in the canyon and
the tour bus stops near Mummy Cave
allowing sightseers footloose time
to rest their eyes and grab a bite
to eat. Attracted by the terra
cotta Anasazi ruins
so close to me I almost see
there’s no one home behind the open

windows, I wander down a gully
towards a brook that separates
the site from trespassers aspiring
to confiscate its mystery,
the closest spot to sit and dwell
on legendary structures built
before a single European
soul mistook this world for new.

The Anasazi built this place
with hand-shaped stones and mud clay mortar.
Pinyon beams protrude in places.
Resting underneath the sandstone
overhang of rising canyon
walls, the ruins persevere
in level-headed testimony
to artisans that disappeared.

No archeologist can tell
you where these ancients went. I know
that some believe they’re Hopi
now or other Pueblo people
—and some don’t rightly know—although
this brook is interrupting all
beliefs with its unfixed effusions
suggesting the living are never leaving.

~Son Rivers 2006

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

At last - I love this poem.