Pueblo
The pueblo rises under the sun-bronzed noon As if hammered out of copper ; The sky's metallic blue Rings in the silence. Nothing moves but the shapes That strain without changing.
Alice Corbin Henderson
The pueblo rises under the sun-bronzed noon As if hammered out of copper ; The sky's metallic blue Rings in the silence. Nothing moves but the shapes That strain without changing.
In these few lines, Alice Corbin Henderson turns a desert village into something almost metallic. The noon sun bronzes the pueblo until it looks "hammered out of copper," so the adobe buildings feel forged rather than built—heavy, permanent, and glowing with trapped heat.
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