His Eyes, His Pulitzer,
His hand
Turning a drink at the bar.
She wants to lie down with him
on the longest day,
the star-speckled path floating them
under the old sumac,
her two peach hills
each lifting
a pomegranate seed.
And he sits down beside her
at the counter of Harry's Road House
and when she cannot reach
the cream, the one she fancies,
he hands her two.
She knows she'll see him again.
The winds of Santa Fe
slipping between them
At Harry's.
At Trade Joe's.
Somewhere,
another sighting.
Jude Deason
(Tin Cup, Poems)
This is an intro only, more to come...
Rest in Peace the Creative Wanderer, finally and hopefully "peace" has found you.
[Sam Shepard lived in Santa Fe from 1983-86 and again from about 2010-15. Over 23 years, Shepard made several films in New Mexico as an actor, writer and director. When I paid my visit to the famous Harry's Road House in 2014, he was not around. He could have been. The female persona in the above poem takes me by the hand and allows me to imagine myself there and with him too].
Photograph: Jay Clendenin/Contour by Getty Images |