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Mexico (San Miguel de Allende)

Text of Poem

Fresh from the slow hills of Iowa
milky with corn, I stand aghast
where sharp-toothed mountains tear at the sky,
the feathers of Montezuma shadow
the cactus, the thin trails, the lonely cross.
A pink stone church praises God
from a fold in the hills, but the dry light
prods my eye with burro and vulture
lest I look too long at the flowers’ radiance.

Blue grace pours from heaven
on proud heads and kind shoulders
risen from the stone altars
as a smile shines in the doorways
and love welcomes you in.

First Line
Fresh from the slow hills of Iowa
Original Pub Location
Original Publication Date
Original Citation
Ladies Home Journal (May 1962) 32.
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Bibliographic Notes

Ward lists the title at "Mexico: San Miguel de Allende"