white sun
strokes
the folded land
clouds
sleep on green hills
four stern horsemen
drive their cattle
to new pastures
on a rock
by a river’s edge
a woman
scrubs a pair of jeans
Guatemala
lake estor
is a vast blue mirror
stretched
from shore to shore
a second world
in which
her body soft and liquid
a woman dances
with a pair
of jeans
and laughing horsemen
chase their shimmering cows
across the waves
forever
whipped cream clouds
juggle hills
like green cups
and white suns
burst and multiply