Summer at the Cabin

Dark green pines stab feckless blue skySummer glistens lazy petting the hurried creekHat Creek;dauntless touristdark with secretsbright with promiseever travelingNeeding to knowwhat’s beyond the bendand the one beyondCrystal clear poetry slaps my bare feetlaps against green carpetrefills shorebound poolsfeeds the eddy by the logkeeps me from sizzling

in the sultry august heat

Hat Creek, Old Station, CA. 2005

Freckled river bottom

beneath silvered window

covers her treasures in moss

hiding tadpoles from gaping mouths

Green dragonfly,

flitting, skittering

across a sparkling life.

Touching truth

when truth allows.

At twilight, I recline

to watch the wind

dance the dying light silver

across cottonwood trees

the cool releases me

even as the smell

of baked timber lingers

in the evening air

sifting

from the pines, creaking

in the welcome breeze

© 2005