Short Chaparral Poems

the chaparral hills
engulfed in a smokey mist —
fire dyed sunsets...

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beyond and below
beneath the cosmic tide
I awoke today to see
with the sun above
my shadow held tight
for lack of shade
as I crawl beneath
remnant chaparral
with this desert scruff
I scrub my bones...

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The land sizzles.
Brittle grass
yellows the hills.
Live oak draw sparse circles
of shade.
Spiky shrubs
cling to the parched slopes:
red stemmed manzanita,
spiny scrub oak.
Hot wind rustles the leaves.
The chaparral holds its breath,
waits for the spark,
to burst into blaze.

Later,
in the ash covered ground
under charred trees,
seeds waken and stir.

8/1/2017...

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Brisk, northern winds blow across the heavy sand
The desert arena is chilly and bright

The summer animals are hiding
Not a lizard, tortoise or snake in sight

The distant mountain peaks hold ice and winter snow
Chilling the temperature on the desert floor below

Brisk, northern winds blow across the heavy sand
Cleaning the desert air, leaving it vibrant and crisp 

Ice particles and frost cling to the dormant chaparral
Sleeping, dormant, waiting for warmer summer days...

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