Mule(s)

White vans
ditch border town—swerving
shepherds rushing west
in the desert dusk
where lightning glitters
like moths crowding
the moon, gagging
the dune
gust. Two girls per
cage—counting crucifixes
out the window,
the soul sections inscribed
across the border’s net
where a panorama
of cacti silhouette
slowly
like eyewitnesses
dodging a charge.