Old Mesilla

I remember bicycle rides through an old neighborhood.
A kind of rural feel in the 4-Points Cotton Gin area,
where rain puddles sit stagnant for days, harboring
mosquitoes. Illegal immigrants hiding in darkness behind
the gin. They bothered no one. The dense smoky air
during cotton processing, hovering like a bomb cloud,
bothered my asthma so I could not breathe.

On the edge of Old Mesilla, Mesilla Park, a quick
jaunt down the road, not knowing where division
lines begin or end. Remembering tall grasses, flowers
and fences, dirt and gravel with weeds along roadsides,
old, cracked adobe homes, makeshift-repaired
by unskilled hands. In a rental house with those obnoxious
barking wiener dogs running back and forth wildly
inside a chain link fence, destroying the yard until
it becomes a plant less, sinking desert sandbox.

Painted old mailboxes on unsteady posts,
ditches flowing of murky water, mirroring clouds
on good days. Humongous trees dedicated
to Audubon Society bird watchers, and the phone
bird, I used to call it, who tricked me every time
into running into the house to pick up the receiver.
Sunflowers taller than me guarding a vegetable
and herb garden, their heads drooping
from heavy weight, giving seeds to birds.

I miss the Richman's, grandma and grandpa types,
taking their walks up and down Union Avenue,
gossiping over the fence, telling tales
about building famous bridges and lousy neighbors
with junky cars taking up space in front of their yard.
And that Catholic preacher next door trying to tell me
my soul is not saved until I'm baptized,
and telling me stories about renovating a desecrated
old church in Hill, and starting a new congregation there.

I miss walks along McDowell road, Conway and Highway 28,
ghosts on a ditch road, the ghost dog and the phantom sports car
as I pulled out. I don't miss that retarded guy, Jesse,
with his tunnel vision and near accidents on his bicycle,
who came over to show me his battery-operated fan
the size of his hand that didn't work and I couldn't fix it.