Alien spaceships,
purple people eaters
or just milkweed in bloom.
Posted in Haiku 2015, Photographs
Tagged flower-friday, Greasy Creek, haiku, photographs, poetry, Purple Milkweed, wildflowers
Posted in Haiku 2015, Photographs
Tagged Dry Creek, Fiddleneck, haiku, photographs, poetry, wildflowers
Competing everywhere you look
grace and color
growing together.
Posted in Haiku 2015, Photographs
Tagged Greasy Creek, haiku, Lichen, Phacelia, photographs, poetry, Scorpionweed, wildflowers
Cleaning houses
in the high-rent district
has certain advantages.
Posted in Haiku 2015, Photographs
Tagged Greasy Creek, haiku, photographs, poetry, purple chinese houses, wildflowers
No need to go to outer space
to touch the stars
sparkling at our feet.
Posted in Haiku 2015, Photographs
Tagged haiku, photographs, poetry, Sierra Man-root, Wild Cucumber, wildflowers
It was good to see the historic Mizpah Hotel open for business again in Tonopah, Nevada when we passed through Sunday on our way to Elko. Traffic was light across the Great Basin, as we only met 74 cars between Tonopah and Carlin, some 250 miles.
Posted in Photographs
Tagged Elko Nevada, Mizpah, National Cowboy Poetry Gathering, photographs, poetry, Tonopah Nevada
If we all lean in the same direction
maybe we can change
the world.
Posted in Haiku 2015, Photographs
Tagged Dry Creek, Phacelia, photographs, poetry, Scorpionweed, wildflowers
Late to the party
in the thick of spring—
just chasing space and sunlight.
Posted in Haiku 2015, Photographs
Tagged Greasy Creek, haiku, photographs, poetry, Twining Brodeaia, wildflowers
On the edge of where I’ve been
a vaster world waits
for me to arrive.
Posted in Haiku 2015, Photographs
Tagged flower-friday, Greasy Creek, haiku, photographs, poetry, Sierra Tidy Tips, wildflowers
The big dogs are drilling deeper,
pumping the last of a million years
of underground water, each river
dammed into furrows to farm
the empty Laguna de Tache.
Sixty years ago, when red lights
stopped in every railroad town,
colorful cornucopias spilled
from billboards onto Highway 99
bragging fruit or vegetable capitals
of another world, and huge Big Oranges
squeezed juice every ten miles.
On the semi-arid edge of change,
we beg for rain and dream of floods
to take this Valley back in time.
* * *
Wiki: Laguna de Tache, Tulare Lake
Posted in Poems 2015
Tagged Drought, Kaweah River, Laguna de Tache, poetry, rain, San Joaquin Valley, Tulare Lake, underground water, water, weather, well drilling, wells