I ride to O’odham country

Passing by la niña blanca

Reclined on barbed wire, 

on desert shrines and their faded flowers

She tips her head back,

And soaks up the sun.

Bleached bone upon dust, 

upon dust.

Dust:

In plastic beads

Bottle caps, 

And stained tulle.

And then I see the crosses stretching 

to marigold fields,

And coke bottle sky.

I pass her by.

And she laughs. 

and all of us are:

Beads on bone

Bone on dust,

And coke bottle sky.