Midday siesta, I dream of water running

down the Tule, ouzels dipping, or 

beer cooling in an eddy on the Kern—

of you and I, our faces streaked with rain

as if we were crying—love in our eyes.

All the mud-stuck trucks, leap-frogging,

winches whining as the clouds cracked,

bursting with more of the same.


What else can we look forward to

this afternoon, inches from the Solstice,

what else can we do but dream? The air

is thin and burns the lungs. Leaves curl

in the garden while cows commiserate 

in the shade of sycamores and oaks,

all their stories stored within rings, 

chatter from the good old days.


And what of native wisdom banked

in their massive trunks, or smooth gossip rocks 

in the living Live Oak shade?  All the secrets

we have lost to progress, all the important

unimportant things that have not saved time,

but accelerated it and our poor hearts

just trying to keep up. 110 degrees at noon,

what else can we do but dream?

8 responses to “110 DEGREES @ NOON

  1. Shirley Kirkpatrick

    Great one, John. Would kick off a new Dry Crik journal about weather.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. It’s the same here in Arizona, John. I dream of water and of snow.


    Liked by 1 person

  3. Can only thank the Hygrometer.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. David Richardson

    You are a great poet John. A hug and kiss to you and Robin.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. what a beautiful encompassing poem..

    Liked by 1 person

  6. You took us on a tour here.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Dreaming of rain. God John, this is wonderful.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Marla G Painter

    oh John- this tweaks my heart. I shared it with my sis-in-law, who lives down the road from you. How lovely and poignant.

    Zarzyski and Liz are due down here in New Mexico in a couple of weeks for a visit. I think the drought dry landscape will shock them. We look forward to sharing a few with them and, I hope, discovering something, anything to laugh heartily about.

    We are supposed to get some rain this week. There is a bit of monsoon season brewing. We have gone from 100+ for weeks to the sixties and seventies for a couple of days. That never happens here and it is creeping people out while also comforting our weary souls. Haven’t seen a drop of rain, only clouds and promises.

    I hope you and Robin are OK. We just gotta hang in and hope.

    Love, Marla


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