Saturday, December 17, 2011

The Dawn of Summer

These days of half sun, 
half cloud at the dawn of summer 
when cool drops fall from a blue sky, 
the violent spring winds 
at last have died.

Sheets hang motionless, 
at noon pillowcases merely sway 
this Saturday, two more left in December, 
another year 
running out of things to say.

Aware of a noise 
above the vigorous digging of its hole, 
el tucutucu climbs to the top, listens, 
climbs higher & sees me 
working the hose. 

By evening 
northern peaks are lost in fog, 
southerns gray & black
like scenes on Chinese vellum scrolls, 
Andean gods strike & crackle. 

Night sounds: 
snowmelt acapellas along la acequia, 
makes a loop around the pond, 
light rain drums on bricks & sand,
a fox barks at the moon. 

1 comment:

  1. this is gorgeous. I love it. Evocative, sweet,
    sad, melancholy. Wonderful.