So then, we'll try to lighten it up a little.
This poem is called "Rancho de la Osa."
It's about the southwest, it's about an actual ranch,
not far from here, down by the Mexican border.
And the story, or the poem, is written
as a result of going down and spending
a weekend at the ranch, and imagining how the ranch got
to be what it is today.
And the ranch was--
it was once a working ranch, and there
were some folks who owned it, and it had been turned into--
not a resort, exactly, but-- a vacation spot for people,
right on the Mexican border.
"Rancho de la Osa," which means Ranch of the Bear.
"Returning to the remains of his labor, ravaged by time,
the wearied old one gives blessing,
and smiles for what he knew.
New paint arrives-- purple, lavender, navy blue.
The iron polished, the rotted boards removed,
good history found.
The diplomat's memorabilia pressed and framed.
Navajo rugs dusted in cellar mud, unboxed
to hang with modern art.
This haunt will not be forgotten.
Even the aging caretaker, without energy to mend,
is sent to cemetery with honor.
Heirs, jealous of illiquid love, are
banished and for bargain sold.
The land endures.
Here's your chance to create time.
Balance the mesquite, grade paths, and gate the drive.
The founders watch from afar, make refuge
for bird, bear, big cat, deer, and thirst starved traveler.
Language laughed away must serve, build again and rest.
The work is good."
So that's sort of a land poem.