Last night I had a dream about you.
Nothing major.
We just met face to face.
You were telling me about my grandmother.
We were outside in the sand.
I was surprised you knew her.
I never knew she went to Mexico.
It was hot.
We sat down at a rough grey whiskery table.
Yes, you said and she rode very well.
A bright grey horse among the caballeros.
“And tequila ?” I leaned towards you tete-a-tete ” What about the tequila…?”
But the scraping sound of speeding traffic brought me into this morning.
And I wondered Why Mexico?
I was always a bit afraid of Mexico –
Suddenly Last Summer
We don’t need no stinking badges,
Maryse Holder Give Sorrow words,
Comacheros,
Decapitations decorating the highways…
But when I was a kid –
Zorro.
Bands of silver trumpeters.
Hat dancing.
Cielito Lindo.
raw silver jewellery, grumpy looking straw cowboys, hand bags made of alligator,
those souvenirs sent to my mother from her favorite uncle,
United States Army Air Forces navigator.
And why you?
I had called you Jan.
You had written to me about my own work.
I had admired yours, especially the Creation Myths,
Hoped someday you’d do an audio version.
How like dreams now,
the days too
fade.
Re: Ethel Pollard Lyons Thanks to Donna J Snyder for telling me
