Santa Fe

By Andrew R. Duckworth

Narrow streets amidst adobe,
Adobe buildings everywhere,
Like clay castles,
With their own villages of artists,
Weavers, painters, pottery makers,
Fine art on display
In a city called Santa Fe.
A place tied to culture and saints
Where the artist sits and paints
Offering no complaints
On a sunny day.
Saint Francis sits and watches
Near the Basilica,
Reaching out to life
As he must have centuries ago
In a place across the ocean.
Art constantly in motion,
As a small breeze breaks through
Amid the mountain view 
And the adobe buildings
And the colors at play
In a city called Santa Fe.