Too old to be campesinos, weathered,
worn, thin, as if what they gave to fallow
fields was taken from their bodies,
a certain fatigue grafted to their limbs,
they teetered and tottered as they walked,
as if still balancing between the raised mounds
of freshly plowed soil, walked
down the street stuffed with boutiques
and specialty stores they barely noticed
and were barely noticed by.
Soon, one said, regresaré a Jalisco,
I will return to Jalisco,
triunfante como una mula,
triumphant as a mule.
Eso no será tan malo, another said,
that will not be so bad,
tu esposa preferiría una mula,
your wife would prefer a mule.

Jeff Burt lives in Santa Cruz County, California, with his wife and a July abundance of plums. He has work in Spry, Cold Mountain Review, LitBreak, and forthcoming in Homestead Review.