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Home  »  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse  »  Alice Corbin

Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.

El Coyotito

Alice Corbin

From “New Mexico Folk-songs”

WHEN I left Hermosillo

My tears fell like rain,

But the little red flower

Consoled my pain.

I am like the coyote

That rolls them, and goes

Trotting off side-ways,

And nobody knows.

The green pine has fallen,

Where the doves used to pair;

Now the black one may find on returning

Little tow-heads with sandy hair!

The adobe is gone

Where my sword hung suspended;

Why worry—when everything’s

At the last ended?

The adobe is gone

Where my mirror was bright,

And the small cedar tree

Is the rabbit’s tonight.

The cactus is bare

Where the tunas were sweet;

No longer need you be jealous

Of the women I meet.

Friends, if you see her

In the hills up above,

Don’t tell her that I am in prison—

For she is my love.