Category: Poetry

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Poetry Travel

Jerome, an old copper mining town.

 ~

Jerome

.

Nearby Jerome copper mines

turned the grassy meadow brassy

to the taste of a bleak landscape

lowering from ancestral 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

anything to tell us what the sun is doing.

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The town joy engulfed with the most experimental

and expressive of arts, for a conservative

valley of straight-laced thinkers.

 ~

See the Pura Gallery online or in person if you visit Jerome.

http://www.puravidagalleryjerome.com/

~

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Categories
Poetry Travel

Montezuma’s Castle ~ 2012

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Montezuma’s Castle

.

Montezuma’s Castle

sits too tall to climb without ladders

pale white adobes, pressed

together with women palms

centuries ago

since then, ancient sycamores

grow in the stream beds.

Categories
Poetry Travel

Cathedral Rock ~ Sedona

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Cathedral Rock

.

High on the formation

The bugs southern tinny song

Comes and goes with the gusting wind

.

Black birds open up a white wingspan to fly

down to ancient sycamores growing in the stream.

~

Categories
Poetry Travel

Out West ~ Sedona

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Praying in the Desert

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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.

 ~

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(50/50 Pictures by me or my husband)

 

Categories
Poetry Travel

Out West Poems – Into Sedona

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From the Colorado North, into Sedona

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We ride over a corner and the Ponderosa Pine

falls suddenly off to the left.

Entering the Oak Creek Canyon narrows

down to Sedona.

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.

~

 

Open Sedona
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Sun iron details

around gated entrances

open Sedona

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A tall ponderosa pine forest

along the drive of oak creek canyon falls

music beats through the intimate canyon river

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From where we lodged we walked

around bell rock and the courthouse

with long shadows stepping on

hollow rock sounds

around the vortex.

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The agave blooms life size

lily pad blossoms

held skyward and toward

the simple and very significant structure

The Chapel of the Holy Cross

we see from a climb up

Cathedral Rock.

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Psychedelic colors of the desert blend

between sky blue, white purple, green

red-pink and lean down to the

Verde Valley, lush trees around Oak Creek

where small black birds open up a bright white

wing span.

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Categories
Poetry Travel

Laughlin, NV ~ A community-sized Vegas

 

We wanted to stay along the Colorado River, so we followed the interstate from Las Vegas, south,

toward Bullhead City and found a river casino town to play and stay for the night.

~

From Laughlin to Oatman at the start of Rt 66

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The sun just waking up

The shallow glow of misty morning dew was rising in

leopard print hills just out in the Mohave Desert

we have a breakfast of tacos held over from last night’s dinner.

A Mexican restaurant then,

the beer in the pump room of the Colorado Belle was good

among the creaking pipes and bustling waiters,

most people were watching sports or gambling.

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Old towns keep their western traditions against change

have shoot-outs at high noon each day,

cracked pots in the gallery.

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Hot means 120 degrees, but in June it’s only reaching 105.

 ~

Categories
Poetry Travel

Looking back to Zion

I had a renewed appreciation for water and lush landscape once I returned from the desert back to Ohio.

The shot at the end shows a little break in the desert with the Virgin River as it streams through Zion.

Here in Ohio

.

Turn on the faucet and I get the fresh

mouth of spring open at my fingertips.

 ~

Ohio Summer Storm

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At the ledge of the river

a storm swells in the distance

the lamplight flickers on and off with every gust

a tornado touches down 100 miles from here

makes a green sky.

The trees hold their bent positions

when everything releases.

Categories
Poetry Travel

The Petrified Sand Dunes of St. George

 {Snow Canyon}

 

Small World

.

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.

 

 

 

Categories
Poetry Travel

A summer evening in St. George, Utah

Phil and I especially enjoyed speaking to Sheri at the Split Rock Gallery who introduced us to beautiful art, high end architecture and Snow Canyon.

 {Snow Canyon}

 

American Earth Rim

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Leopard print hills are just

out in the Mohave desert

south and east of Las Vegas.

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To the north of The Rim

sits St. George among steeples

of church and mountain.

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Many times a year eighteen 

galleries open to the night 

to be closed by curfew.

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Architects build on black lava rock

just beneath the peaking faces

of snow canyon

the quilted hills

diminish a climbing figure and crawl

slowly back into a covered earth.

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Just miles away from the spotted hills

stained south of The Rim.

 

Categories
Poetry Travel

North Rim of the GC 2012

  First, a few last shots of Bryce National Park showing the sand canyons we walked through.

 {An observation at first glance of the Grand Canyon from the North Rim.}

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Over the Grand Canyon

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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.

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The coveted beauty turned

a shoulder to our societies’

ignored warning

the warmest summer on record

for America cried

the glistening drops of honeysuckle

blooming a month too early.

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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.

~

 

Down Kaibab on the North Rim

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A rock fell, but we didn’t see the sound

Of gunshots rumbling, echoing off ancient carvings

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The same source happened by helicopter

The twirling blades chopping louder and louder

And finally we saw, miles away, a small white bubble.