Best Tule Poems
Tule Fog
The mist hangs in the canyons,
like a whisper, like a prayer.
Like an ancient dark suggestion,
of something not quite there.
It’s a misty cauldron,
or the steam of dragon’s lair.
A secret incantation,
removing the despair.
It’s the “just add this”in H2O,
and the “freeze” in frozen snow.
It’s the “way too much” in drowning,
and the “not enough” in glow.
It can float on waves of warmth,
rising halfway from the clay.
It will promise up renewal,
in a shroud of liquid spray.
It’s as old as Earth itself,
and responsible for life.
It cuts the dry boned land
in half, with its liquid knife.
It’s always been around here,
but it’s too moody to appear.
Vanished like forgotten love,
but remembered when it’s near.
By Edlynn Nau
© November 28, 2018
I wait for the heat
of the Allis Chalmers crawler’s engine
to fill the tarped in space
where I sit huddled
next to levers, gauges and knobs.
The crawler seems to float.
The tule fog obscures the ground
covers everything,
all that has grown
and all that was lost.
Even the old, worn stone headstones
behind the main farmhand’s house.
But I am not thinking of that.
I need to rip the southeast field.
I put it in gear and pull the clutch
and then the throttle and black smoke
belches briefly.
I step on the track brakes
gently left, then right
to get to the headland
and then yank the left track clutch to spin
into place.
The crawler moves ahead
and I push the hydraulics
to drop the pointed shanks into the ground.
I stand now, warm
and look behind
at the boiling brown soil,
shiny, curls releasing and spilling up.
I feel the exact right tug
of the crawler’s weight
as it lumbers and strains.
I work on making
perfect, straight lines of turned up soil
across the field.
Mid-morning,
the tule fog has vanished.
I had not noticed it go.
It will return tomorrow
the farmer has told me,
blanketing everything again,
thickly,
covering all
while I pass over,
turning and raising.
The tree of Tule in Oaxaca, Mexico, is the tree with the largest trunk diameter in the world. Its circumference reaches almost 60 meters and has a height of 42 meters. Its approximate age is 2,000 years.
tens of people could
take a nap at the same time
the ancient big tree.
Number of t letter - in the above text - is 28.
In Tule Valley, hooves strike the sagebrush-speckled desert floor,
it is there between the rippling mountains that stocky legs push off
the ground, and take to a gallop;
A momentum so palpable it resonates with each strike of the earth,
in this valley where dusting light rain falls across the mountaintops.
They gallop with volition and stamina,
here where sunlight blasts the parched grounds, and tufts of rice grass sway,
in the hot breeze.
It is a place devoid of human residents, a place where wild horses run
and rabbits leave their tracks in the rippled sand.
It is a part of the world where the stars at night sparkle
with marvelous intensity, a place where one can lay on the sand
look up at the sky and almost see eternity...
El Árbol del Tule, what a legendary tree!
More than two thousands years is her age, history!
The ancient Giant tree El Árbol del Tule so cool!