(Will I ever see you again, San Luis Rio Colorado?)
Hub-deep in gravelly clear water
(Are you still there, San Luis Rio Colorado?)
We drive cautiously by the broken bridge
(Do your adobes still sit sun-smitten?)
whose arches shadow dusty-ribbed dogs.
(Are your vaqueros still boot-to-wall)
We drive out of the riverbed, up the slope
(and cigarette-to-mouth under frayed hats?)
into the town, flat under the winter sun.
(Does the beer still taste of lemon, San Luis?)
We pause for a while, then drive on.
(Are the children still staring at strangers, San Luis Rio Colorado?)