NEW YEAR 2016

 

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Eight inches gentle rain, yet
the creek shrinks up canyon,
drawn back by thirsty ground.

Hills slick in shadows stretched
up draws, yet not a trickle
leaks to cobbled beds.

Slow sips, four dry years
not yet quenched, the gods
have been merciful—

brought dusty flesh
back to life with grass
green between the feet

of dancing naked trees
along the creek. Our hearts
pump with its flow—

though nearly idle soaking now—
pound with its raging
promises of spring reflections:

Wood Ducks courting
beneath long-limbed canopies
of sycamores dressing.

I yearn ahead, scout
the moving parts
we’ve yet to play

as I write this
moment’s gift
of today.

 

5 responses to “NEW YEAR 2016

  1. Great verse, especially the last six lines . . . You speak for jedermann . . .

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks, Peter. A mediocre poem at best, mostly a journal entry as we prepare for a forecast 6 days of rain that ought to get the creek running again. Time to cut a little manzanita today.

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  2. Split it while it’s green because when it dries it’s like iron . . .

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    • Hard it is. Our manzanita is slowly dying out, especially since the drought, and usually fairly small, 4″ or less in diameter. We just cut the dead ones with a sharp chain and only use it for rekindling last night’s coals.

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  3. If you could only hook up with the right people, florist, craft trade, and pet bird trade (perches for pet birds) I bet they would cut it for you. Assuming you are just clearing)
    Love the verse and the wood ducks. Time to get that homemade boat with a note for the finder ready to set sail down the creek.

    Liked by 1 person

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