Other one is in the voice of one of those people
crossing the desert--
attempting to cross the desert.
Or much of it is, not all of it.
Part of it's narration.
It's called "Mother of God."
"That night, he lay down in an arroyo,
although he knew it was better to walk at night and rest
during the day.
He lay down because he had to.
It was cooler and the sky was filled with cold stars.
For two days and a night, he had seen only ocotillo,
dried sticks with claws, and clumps of gray chollas,
attaching themselves to his legs like huge gray spiders.
There was no water anywhere.
That night, he lay down and knew he was dying.
He wanted to cry, but he had no tears.
He tried to sing, but his mouth would make no sound.
So he prayed, inside his head, looking straight
up at the stars that seemed to be holes
in the dark robe of the mother of God,
through which light from her body flowed.
'Little mother,' he prayed, 'let this night last for me forever.
And let the sun not return to torment me.
I am a sinner, but I have loved you always.
And I have suffered enough in search of food
for my children.'
Later, some told how he had tried
to dig with his hands for water in the sand of the arroyo.
But those who knew him said it was not true.
He had been digging a grave."