Tag Archives: poetry

WPC—EXTRA

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A bread and butter jar-full
on the vine
waiting for you to get home.

 

 

Weekly Photo Challenge—’Extra’

SUN DOG

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Rising to another collision
of light and dark
like a rainbow.

 

 

WOOD AND STEEL

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Keeping corrals together
is not improved
by the more nails you use.

 

 

THE ELEPHANT

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We are gnats on the elephant
dependent on weather
and her mastodonian nature:
a flick of an ear or a downpour.

She has taught us to be adaptable,
to stay humble, to turn tragedies
to opportunities and despite
our good luck, revel quietly

upon our small part of her dusty
hide. And she accepts us—as long as
we remain less irritating than those
on the rest of her landscape.

 

 

OVERSPRAY

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One hundred degree cows
come close, feed on one side,
lawn on the other.

 

 

SUMMER IN THE SAN JOAQUIN

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Dawn bears down early,
sears flesh exposed,
blinds eye and mind

into a fuzzy daze,
fiery-white as hell
must be. We plod

slowly with heads bowed
to mantras of water
keeping the living alive.

Like cattle, we bed with
welcome breezes moving
shade to shade.

 

 

DUST AT DAYLIGHT

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We rise to dust we stir,
greet dawn with a cigarette
to clear our lungs.

 

 

WPC—ROOM

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First dawn after a rain
turkey vultures need
room to dry their feathers.

 

 

Weekly Photo Challenge: Room

IN THE MIDDLE OF A MIRACLE

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Of this earth and all its erosion,
its granite and baked clay slopes
alive with cycles of seed and grass,
we revel in its wet bounty
and die a little in dry hard times.

We have become the cows we raise
in time, generations of calves that stayed
to nurse another—this earth their home.
We are the strong and lucky ones
to be living in the middle of a miracle.

 

LATELY

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I’ve little time for wonder—
warm days plod circles,
wear dust tracks in thin dry grass

we follow like cow trails
without endings,
without looking beyond them.

There is no adventure,
no endorphin rush,
no epiphany other than

one more summer
to endure, to survive
like lichen on rock.