Across the Broad Hills, 1885

121 Across the Broad Hills, 1885 Claudia MonPere Sky thick with rain, land rich for grazing: sagebrush, brome, red stem filigree. My lambs grow fat. Shy white spots bunched around Jacalitos Creek. Lollie pours drinks at the Santa Fe Basque Hotel. I do my talking with the wind. Thin, silver, my words pipe into the canyon. The sheep graze. Weeks flow through me. No one but a ring of bandits hunched around my fire one night. We drink, play some hands of Music. You are mine, I call to the land I don’t own. They spill from my dreams, seventeen gutted sheep. Maki barked into the trees. Still the lions hunted. 122 Ecotone: reimagining place Yes, I am only a tramp sheepman. My greasy tent, my hobbling burro. My lambs, my lambs. ...