Posted in Photographs
Tagged Dry Creek, Macro Monday, photographs, weekly-photo-challenge, White Mustard, wildflowers
While we slept, the grass grew
an inch overnight beneath the clouds
and passing showers, working overtime,
as the dry earth spun beneath them—
as the creek edged down through sand
and gravel, seeping over the granite dikes
that lump its bed, towards the river
and settlements downstream. I dreamed
we were the end of the line
living on a lake amid thick timber,
fat fish flashing bellies to the sun
and fresh meat hung in a tree.
No other world beyond but more
of the same, working on its own—
no children slain in schools for effect,
no political charades, no slaves
to bankers banking on superfluous debt—
and the grass grew taller, while we slept.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2014, Ranch Journal
Tagged DREAMS, Dry Creek, photographs, poetry, rain, red-stem filaree, water, weather, wildflowers
Rare October Redbud bloom
summoned Monarchs,
began a two-year drought.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2014, Ranch Journal
Tagged Drought, Dry Creek, haiku, Monarch Butterfly, photographs, poetry, Redbud, weather, weekly-photo-challenge, wildflowers, wildlife
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2014
Tagged Dry Creek, haiku, honeybee, Milk Thistle, photographs, poetry, weekly-photo-challenge, wildflowers, wildlife
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2014
Tagged Dry Creek, haiku, photographs, poetry, Strawberry Clover, weekly-photo-challenge, wildflowers
It begins with
what small device,
what detail rings
into a melody
unfolding?
The hint of cloud,
the breeze, the scent
that rallies synapses
to soar into song—
poor words dressed
in new clothes,
the common tongue
revived to reverberate
from the soil—
what small device?
What catalyst
will change our appetite
for more, what selflessness
will help us see
that more is before us
beneath our feet
to feed us all
the songs we need
to find humility
and awe?
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2014
Tagged California Buckeye, photographs, poetry, weekly-photo-challenge, wildflowers
Down the Sierra’s spine,
they sneak-in and loom,
cumulus over the ridgeline.
No storm clouds, but friendly.
We know now we’ll never be
the same, never assume
green feed and water
always. We will pray
in our own way, kneel
before the cotyledons
breaking through the clay,
stare rain in the eyes.
And when the chant of pagans
sing, we will make love within
soft petals of wildflowers.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2014
Tagged Drought, Dry Creek, photographs, poetry, rain, water, weather, wet seep monkeyflower, wildflowers
Within petals frayed,
the seeds—small devices
enduring despite us.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2014
Tagged Anisocoma acaulis, Dry Creek, haiku, photographs, poetry, Scalebud, weekly-photo-challenge, wildflowers