stone
rooms
filled
with Mayan dreams—
the
wings
of
frightened swallows
beat
against my chest
Chaak
the rain god’s
blackened
face
rising
over
the temple steps
a
double rainbow
a jade
mask
for a
dead king . . .
in the
window
of the
tourist bus
the
beggar’s face
crutches
on
cobblestone . . .
the boy
with
the withered foot
hawks
used shoes
an
altar stone
grooved
for the flow of blood . . .
in each
little shop
an
armed guard
struts
his shotgun
the sun
god’s
nightly
passage
through
a two-headed snake—
I dream
of finding
the
second mouth
wisps
of
smoke rising
from a
ritual fire
we
cleanse ourselves—
these
bundles of rue
flower water
in a
plastic bottle
tucked
in my
carry-on
the
shaman’s essence
~Impressions of our trip to Mayan sites in Belize, Guatemala, and Honduras in November 2012.
