AT ONCE

 

20160306-IMG_1692

 

Canyon gray,
light warm rain,
glass of wine at dusk,

and we enjoy the sound
of small drops
on a metal roof,

tinkling ricochets
in stereo downspouts
that insulate

our momentary sighs,
escaped breath rising
on words overheard

only by the gods
and fickle goddesses
somewhere overhead.

Not the storm predicted,
not the flood
to erase the drought

that won’t release its grip
for years, if ever,
talons sunk in our flesh—

this crease of earth and rock
that’s heard it all before
from generations of oaks

and sycamores, cattle
people and natives,
all sighing at once.

 

2 responses to “AT ONCE

  1. You beautifully capture the ache of the land . . .

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s