Anasazi Mother, at home among prickly pear sagebrush lizard did you sing to Moon? Anasazi Mother, boulder jumble sandy canyon coyote yip burr of wasp did snake speak to you? Anasazi Mother, spires spearing dry sky pockmarked rock cruel sun red rock nest did you dream of cool caves? Anasazi Mother, some say when a new shaman’s hand rests in a petroglyph handprint, the shamans gone before fill her with their spirits what rock-locked wisdom do we need? Anasazi Mother, what knowledge lies buried with your ancestors under your kitchen floor? Anasazi Mother, when your hands failed did you still yearn to imprint sun-seared boulders? when your lips burned and your tongue swelled did you keen at the water hole? when your hearing failed did you mourn buzz of bee, wind stirring ricegrass? when your heart failed did you still struggle to ask Moon why the rains no longer blessed the land and all your children died? ……..Nan Lundeen Valley of Fire, Nevada The poet is grateful to The Petigru Review where “Last Mother” first appeared.