Poetry by Mary Shanley
A pack of prehistoric coyotes
the sagebrush slopes of the Sangre de Christo Mountains,
where spirits of red clay earth keep a leery eye
on urban tourists who come looking for a healing
in the hot mineral spring and maybe have their picture
taken with an authentic, Native American Indian.
now a popular postcard, like the one
Denis sent me. His message read,
“Indians didn’t have any concept of hell
until the Christians arrived.”
The distant mesas dwell in
and the afternoon clouds hang
eavesdrop on cinnamon toast earth.
About the Poet
Mary Shanley is a poet/storyteller living in New York City. She has had four books of poems and stories published and is a frequent contributor to