Nearby Jerome copper mines
turned the grassy meadow brassy
tingy to the taste of a bleak landscape
lowering from ancestrial Pueblos’ mazes.
Toward the hills of a glistening J
the lights of Jerome draw
day-time travelers to sit sipping beer
from the balcony of an old Asylum.
Turquoise infused Juniper wood
lies in the precious glassed galleries
where the locals tell time on spring-loaded clocks
bouncing from ‘8’ balls (Pura Gallery)
anything to tell us what the sun is doing.
The town joy engulfed with the most experimental
and expressive of arts, for a conservative
valley of straight-laced thinkers.
From the Colorado North, into Sedona
We ride over a corner and the Ponderosa Pine
falls suddenly off to the left.
Entering the Oak Creek Canyon narrows down
We walked a figure eight around the courthouse
then bell rock, a four mile entry into the city we’d call home for the next four nights.
Chess pawn pieces
ornaments to the garden
left to freeze
in an eruption of the landscape
exposed to a dry cobalt sky.
The sand residue glistens
fills up the prongs of the aloe plant
starves the tree roots of stable ground
leaving in the remains
Queen Elizabeth on her thrown
wallstreet and a lazy alligator
all in bad luck.
Down Kaibab on the North Rim
A rock fell, but we didn’t see the sound
Of gunshots rumbling, echoing off ancient carvings
The same source happened by helicopter
The twirling blades chopping louder and louder
And finally we saw, miles away, a small white bubble.
Over the Grand Canyon
Are you wondering above the smog
over the canyon
the bright sky that hugs
low humid afternoons
about the sound of a gunshot
wound tumbling, echoing off
ancient carvings, rocks that fall.
The coveted beauty turned
a shoulder to our societies’
the warmest summer on record
for America cried
the glistening drops of honeysuckle
blooming a month too early.
A shadow glow of misty morning dew
rising foot in front of foot step wide
paths with wind sounds river melodic
like living next to an ocean, but here
in the desert the shifting of low wheat tassels
blow together, wind making an offering
to the hot hot sun.
We walk like tourists
in our soft shoes
scuffing the earth
with or eyes
we listen to colors
watch rainbows and forests
blow over with the storm
of a flickering candle.
Praying in the Desert
Long shadows on the hollow rock
walking among monuments of the desert
the agave century plant blooms pads of self-rising yellow buds.
The Ave Maria of the mountains
field song swelling in the Chapel of the Holy Cross
the red risen church with low benches for praying
and viewing the psychedelic flowers of the desert.