Wednesday, October 30, 2013

Time for the Colorado river











No power
packing water coffee bait
long drive
Pierce Ferry roiling rapids
no camping no fishing
no parking no fires
no rangers
sleeping without a moon
under the stars
in sandstorm wind











It's all about leaving
running out of time
not knowing
was it dream time or
think time yet
fear of frailty
longing for water
and
the fluidity of joy
the adventure
the call of the
wild one
the one I was
I am



Wednesday, October 23, 2013

Flagstaf and Route 66

With a friend
in a silver spiffy car
cruising route 66
Kingman Hackberry
Truxton
where the apple pie was
when the two old ladies were
Peach Springs of the Hualapai
Seligman where I got breakfast
a couple of times
ate black eyed peas
on New Year's day in 1995
oh those icy roads
and now new to me Route 66
looping to Ashfork
stretches of walls in red lava rock
and the spacey silence
which will forever last                                      
then I 40 weaving to Williams
to Flag
old buildings old hippies
old books & new thoughts
and time in slower flow
autumn light
in peaceful glow

I met Jack in the Starrlight
and howling Allen
Collins and Simic
and De Bello Gallico printed by Plantin
in 1570 in Antwerp
where so soon I must return...


Monday, October 21, 2013

White Cliff Canyon

The first time

the first time I drove
through white cliff canyon
in tony’s cherry red and silver Z 220
then in my yellow Z 280
the Blazer red and white
the silver grey Huyandai
and several miscellaneous rental cars
I always saw this brown horse
head held high
beautiful and masculine
would say hello and wish him well
today in the rented Toyota Prius
the horse was no more

so him I cannot now show
my head hangs low

Sunday, October 20, 2013

Walking in the desert



When time is slow
the company good
you walk and talk
then laying down
on the outside couch
I smell the time of desert sand
opening my eyes
the mass of pinpricked stars
in my skies of blues
I name them Billie Holiday, Miss Ella and Aretha
in my darkest hues
eyes closed the reflection
of the sun in orange yellow glow
then in these silences 
tweets of birds
a far plane and someone’s plan
a car, a truck, a trick
and slight of hand
then swimming
in the desert glass and singing sand

 










Saturday, October 19, 2013

Bake sale on Old Miners Day



At nine the women have set up
their last stand
have baked
now sell or as I
eat and share and buy
dress up on a dare collect
for the merry go round
in this town
flags
for the vets in the cemetery
vaudeville play
community spirit
for a day
friendshp
& foreign wars
cow girls
bad boys
and floozies
bikers on harleys
(yes I know the sound well)
in a way
all soiled doves with
pretty old cars


Friday, October 18, 2013

Silver Hill's blues


walking through the wash
past the cemetery
with bouldered graves
I am awash
with words
weaving and waging
in my mind
the impermanence
of time
of timeless laughs
in greetings and parting
Silver Hill
solid and symbol
of what comes and goes
old cowboys old miners
old cars old Indian wars
and one day
I awash
with words


Monday, October 14, 2013

Desert words













walking without talking
watch without time
Spanish daggers and
and soft singing sand
the crunch of a footstep
and flapping of wings
rabbit brush and rosemary
through chirps and tweets
hearing silence
sticks strait and twisted
sleeping snakes
from childhood nightmares
watching out for slithering
a fleeting movement of bees
beings and fleeing
in the sparseness of tracks on soil
around a solitary plant
desert words of burning sand

Sunday, October 13, 2013

Mojave dessert

 










Sunday morning breakfast

window rattling wind
clang banging doors
clattering tin roof in rain
sand-drifting crevasses
all dust my home
desert lilies’ white stain
a jittery fix for cows and deer
as for folks meth & beer
war stories on Sunday mornings
of fallen heroes
at the VFW breakfast boasting
of classified unmarked secret
warfare & all alive to tell it
to the stranger that I am
and in this desert storm
I hear the sand grain wail

Monday, October 7, 2013

Sunrise in the desert

It has almost been a week since I am home again in the desert. The last guest left the place in total disequilibrium but three days later my place almost looks like I like it to look. Thus I walk in the morning, watch the changing of the light as the sun climbs up from behind the mountains and changes the world. My friends seem truly glad to have me back for a while and seamlessly I am reintegrated into the small community. So one buys too many goodies at the all town yard sale: delicious sinfully rich pecan squares, light upside down pineapple cake and moist scrumptious banana bread... It was good that unexpected guests showed up so that I could share. The desert holds its own secrets, its special charm: from the tracks in the sand to the tiniest lizard darting away and gratefully I heard the coyotes yesterday afternoon. Now I know I am home again. Till now I saw: Gamble quail, a doe and her young one probably from this spring, jack rabbits and rabbits. I spoke with the cactus wren and saw 18 buzzards sail over Silver Hill. All the friendly dogs got petted and like a fool in honor of my friend Cese I danced alone in the local restaurant bar... Cese this one is for you.