Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, SANTA FE AT DUSK, by GEORGIA MOORE EBERLING

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SANTA FE AT DUSK, by            
First Line: The narrow streets are veiled in violet shadows
Last Line: And bathes the narrow streets in violet light.
Subject(s): Sante Fe, New Mexico

The narrow streets are veiled in violet shadows.
From flat, adobe roofs, old weathered beams
project above blue window-frames like jutting eyebrows
over sleepless eyes.
On Buena Vista Road the lamps shine out
and throw small, yellow rays across the night,
while Guadalupe Street grows dim and still.
The night has flung a gaily-striped serape,
woven of lights that gleam from rancho lamps,
above the bosom of the pregnant fields,
while the Plaza wraps the shades of dusk around her
as some old madre winds her shawl securely,
and broods as night-winds wake.
I catch the faint, sweet scent white clover brings,
the pale round heads upthrust between the crooked flagstones at my feet,
while all the trees nod sleepily and speak
in soft, low tones of things I never saw.
The little ditches, running full tonight
to water green alfalfa fields and corn,
repeat in guarded gurgles and low trills
all that the trees have whispered in the gloom.
Fiesta Days will come and go -- but now
all Santa Fe is still as twilight falls
and bathes the narrow streets in violet light.

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