Alberto Ríos (b.1952)
Desert Bestiary, Sonnet One
Hummingbirds are quarter notes that have left the nest of the flute.
Tarantulas are awkward left hands in search of a piano.
Horny toads are the Queen Elizabeths of dirt.
Cardinals are made from wounds that have not healed.
Ants are grains of sand that have hatched.
Snakes sometimes flaunt their diamonds, but we do not love them.
Skunks are photographs of the Milky Way.
Gila monsters are grandfathers on the family trees of beaded purses.
Spiders are tattoos in search of your skin.
Beetles are armored vehicles taking sides in the war raging beneath us.
Scorpions are lobsters sent west by the witness protection program.
Cicadas wear goggles and make noise to warn us of the apocalypse.
Coyotes baying at midnight are broken hearts with teeth.
Prairie dogs at attention are the patient ears of the earth.
Alberto Álvaros Ríos (b.1952) is the child of a Mexican father and a British mother who was raised on the U.S. side of the Mexican-American border. He has received Guggenheim and National Endowment for the Arts fellowships as well as the Walt Whitman Award. His work includes poetry, fiction, and memoir. He was Arizona’s first poet laureate. This poem is from A Small Story About the Sky (Copper Canyon Press, 2015).
Selected by Amy Frykholm: amy@journeywithjesus.net
