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Some of my poems for you. Subscribers receive others in my monthly newsletter.

Image by Juan Rojas

Warning for Those Visiting the Grand Canyon

Standing between me and the canyon rim

a woman in a jogging suit tells her child:

"Don't go too near those people, they may have a disease."

She knows a plague of Mexicans when she sees one, apparently,

but says nothing about the abyss along which her child now runs.

 

How thirsty the child’s bones would be

drying at the bottom of the canyon,

precisely like the bones of dinosaurs

buried in the thousands of colored layers of stone.

 

The mother sips bottled water to keep the germs away.

Someone should tell her the water contains bacteria like she has never seen.

The cussed little fellows don’t stay put very well.

Oh, and some of the same water evaporated from the sweaty palms of a mass shooter,

and some from the spit of small boys hitting cars from an overpass,

and some from the King of England's cup of tea.

She’s still got her eye on the Mexicans though.   Continue Reading...

East Elk Creek

Blessing is a rugged horizon—

a tangle of cliffs and Hogback

ridge bending in the wind

breathing sky

stretching the counties you can see—

eagle hiking the updraft above

creek scrambling over rocks below

canyon climbing 300 million years deep

butterfly sitting on a stem of grass

just taking it all in

 

Sun swings on the berry bushes

dives after trout in the creek

leaps at our eyes

running like tiny lizards across the rocks

where the cottonwoods and wind dance close together

scree, ravens, and drying elk bones

argue who owns the abandoned gold mine

about like countries fight over such things

Continue Reading...

Hiker at the stream in the mountains
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