Santa Fe In Winter in  General   

The city is closing for the night.
Stores draw their blinds one by one,
and it's dark again, save for the dim

infrequent streetlight bending at the neck
like a weighted stem. Years have built
the city in layers: balustrades filled in

with brick, adobe reinforced with steel,
and the rounded arches smoothed
with white cement. Neighborhoods

have changed the burro trails
to streets, bare at night—
no pedestrians, no cars, no dogs.

With daylight, the houses turned galleries
and stores turned restaurants open—
the Navajos wrapped in wool

crowd the Palace of the Governors plaza
to sell their handmade blankets,
silver rings, and necklaces

to travelers who will buy jewelry
as they buy everything—
another charming history for themselves.

By Deborah Ager

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Comments

nice by SWD at 2006-03-18 09:20:50

I found this a great poem!

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Other poems by Deborah Ager:

• Alone
• Dear Deborah
• Night In Iowa
• Santa Fe In Winter
• Summer Nights
• The Tortoise In Keystone Heights