Province of San Luís Potosí, Mexico
They are playing games with language,
laughing when I cannot follow their tongues
clicking through the consonants of náhuatl.
Hacahuillamitl, they tell me,
I learn new Spanish words for shovel,
pick, blister. Later, with an axe,
they show me how to find the grain:
"the wood wants to be cut here."
At night the stars we look for are
without the violence of our shooting stars
or the sadness of our falling ones,
they are fleeting
simply there, and then not.
Seconds before I do, Cami hears the rain
advancing in a sheet from the mountain;
she calls a warning, two quick words:
In the time it takes to translate
"the water is coming"
I am already wet.