“Driving to Dripping Springs” by Maril Crabtree

New Mexico sunset stains the sky behind me.
The Organ Mountains ripple in the distance.
This parched land used to be Apache hunting grounds.

Ahead lies Dripping Springs, wild nest of caves
that once gave water and shelter to travelers.
New Mexico sunset stains the sky behind me.

Now sounds of new-home building and roaring
lawnmowers compete with desert silence.
The Organ Mountains ripple in the distance.

These plots spread man-made grass on terra cotta
earth. Barbecue grills smoke store-bought meat.
This parched land used to be Apache hunting grounds.

*A cascade poem

—

Maril Crabtree’s poetry has appeared in numerous journals and anthologies, most recently I-70 Review, Persimmon Tree, Third Wednesday and the anthology Begin Again (Woodley Press, 2011). A Pushcart Prize nominee, she has two chapbooks, Dancing with Elvis (2005) and Moving On (2010) and is Poetry Co-editor for Kansas City Voices.

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