A crazy quilt of leaves covers the ground,
A riot of confetti drifts earthward bound.
Summer is over, and summer’s last dawn.
Earth, sound your golden trumpets, summer is gone!
Lindas muchachas* from Mexico,
Adorned with tissue flowers of red,
White and green. Eyes smiling, hands clapping so!
Dance! Dance with Padre Hidalgo. Spread
As the ocean clasps the shore,
As the sun warms the air,
As the rain wets the earth,
As the breeze embraces the trees,
Slender, willowy, her gown billowing
around her, she waited, trembling.
White flowers spilled over her like
a wedding veil. The clouds were huge
Out of the sapphire shadows he creeps,
and into the dead of night he seeps.
In his prison grays, hiding from the light
of day, they call him, 'Bandit.'
Beggar lady, in the white mist,
They say you carry a ragbag heart,
hidden inside your rattletrap cart.
I wonder, were you once loved and kissed?
In its vast blue vault, the golden cup spills
over Earth's parched brow, unto its fevered, furrowed hills,
a clear ethereal wine, hot and pure, that mingles
with quietly devout, gaunt, prickly fingers,
How do you like the roast beef?
Great Glory! Is that what it is?
Don't be blase'!
Well, it's Roast Beef a la Blah!
Pum, Pum, Pum,
Hear the mournful beat of the drums.
All come, all come, all come,
To honor those who died.
She liked to pray by the knotted old tree
On the hill facing the restless sea.
She called it her, “Prayer Tree, ”
Because, she said, “It’s old and gnarled like me.”