(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?)