Mexico at Twelve
Like a young prince,
I rode high and untethered
Into the desert
My saddle the engine lid
Of our dodge camper van
Higher even than my father,
Driving, on my left
Or my mother,
Worrying, on my right
Across the Rio grande
We drove, through rocks and sun
I said “mesquite”
every chance I got
Tried not to stare
At the ragged kids
In our dust
Kept my eyes open
For the bright birds of Mexico
I saw them
The orioles, the buntings
The boys breaking rocks
At an opal mine
The vultures, the hawks
Together we looked
Through my binoculars
The girls and their babies
Begging at the Temple of the Sun
At the beach
I burned so brown
Ran so wild
A lady thought
I was Mexican but
I had no Spanish
Looked at her
Struck dumb
The egrets, the hummingbirds
We drove home
Mile by mile, more
Green, more cool
Blue jays, vireos
My mother happier
My little brother calmed down
But me, stirred up
From then, and now
Wandering
Pepper Trails’ poems have appeared in Rattle, Cascadia Review, Atlanta Review, Spillway, and other journals. His recent collection, Cascade-Siskiyou: Poems, was a finalist for the 2016 Oregon Book Award in Poetry. He lives in Ashland, Oregon.
