MALHEUR
Recall a carcass at the river shore:
playful minks, dagger-toothed & tired
by the hunt. The westward winds
& dandelions, softly beheaded. Never mind
strange dogs down murder-hornet ridge,
water nipping at your bones, I will find you
lightning strikes and fireflies
and pay for coffee dinner. In your home,
we forget our grandfathers—those elder trees
rung to stars. We draw a bath, wash our clothes,
put out herbs to dry. Still, you listen long
for the moan of fallen trees.
BLUE MOUNTAIN
hunched on a glacial boulder, the bird of prey
dismisses my weak whistle, my well wishes. I want
to know her gaze, her hollowed song, but she,
shrouded in huddled shoulders, studies
the folded waters, the slow barrage of leaves
clustered and carried downstream.
and the sunflowers brother and bruise
themselves in reach of evening light
and the maples resist their reddening
and the half-moon glares. this could be enough,
to be alive, witnessing, but still i kneel beside
the water’s edge, stirring reflections—
and the bird unfurls her enormous wings.
AMISH WALMART
wondercloud &
iron sun
all a pointed edge—
the milk cows groan
watch as their young
go running down-
hill
I will wander
the thicket of baskets
iron kettles, chicken wire
sculpture
I will pay a bearded father
cash
for a jar
of peach jam
then perhaps
the rain will begin
sooner than prophesied;
the Amish and we
do not share
the same weather gods(
gliding monarch
metal windmill, paused)
when my body was a river
i lost sight of something bright
and metallic: strands of silver tied
to diseased trees honey bees
fetal against hot asphalt
the valley is a slump: an emptied pool
where the deltas ridge grain waves
—a ribcage, rounding out the fields
once, when my body was a river,
and swelling oceans knew how to find me,
the foothills kept their green long through july
i could hug the banks of Mount Diablo
i could swallow enough salt to float
I could see all the way to the sierras
a glistening, silver skyline
***
Author photograph courtesy of Caroline Bick