Jackson Melnick
Laredo
This hill and this night
two mesquite trees
in the wind—
soft wind
 across three stars
near the ridge, burgeoning within the hills
Laredo—
amid the hills, thrush of the stalking grass,
 cattle roll from their sleep
making the world. Moonlight
absorbed in their teeth
 their dandelion stained teeth
their coarse dark skins, 
warm bodies, bone quiet—
then a flash
 then the rain 
muddying the groun