Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Sespe Creek

Charcoal, 9 x 12

This is a spot behind the waterhole at Sespe Creek, one of my favorite places in the world.

Wednesday, July 4, 2012

The Great Pink Awakening (from the journal)

Cool clarity brought back by the rain.
Wren looks to her horizon.
I am here, like yesterday. 6-2-12

Woodland Garden

They made it themselves—
myrtle, the sharons, dogwoods, creeper.
Carpenter bee makes his way through
the spaces they left for him. 6-3-12

Talking, fussing,
chickadees take the myrtle.
Lady redbird flies in to see why. 6-9-12

At the foot of the driveway—
red fox
as comfortable as a cat. 6-9-12

Summer’s first sharon
as pink as the first dawn.
The golden dragonfly arrives,
admires. 6-11-12

The fox coming for my old cat
is stopped only by one thing—
my two old eyes. 6-11-12

Just behind the poke—
the great pink awakening.
The noisy wren is wearing a pair
of sharons by her ear. 6-19-12

Across the tops of sassafras’ new leaves
the sun skips, sinks into myrtle,
the rings of light widening out to
a marriage of awareness. 6-22-12

Tall, the narrow deer
walks through the path
in my wooded grove.
Her wooded grove. 6-24-12

Swallowtail in the star tree
is lost in the shadows.
By the points
she will make her way. 6-24-12

Threadbare, the crab apple is this year,
the honeysuckle below, shriveled.
Two wrens talk, fill in the gaps. 6-25-12

The little shadow moves faster than my eye.
Yesterday she waited, met me face on,
a moment’s consideration on the flagstone
the length of a chipmunk sigh. 6-27-12

The cascading pink waterfall
is for purple dragonfly.
She pauses midflight,
turns to look at my face.
It’s a long thought we share
on the wing,
on the pen. 6-30-12