Monday, April 28, 2014

Stanzas Writen On The Driest Season

In the valley
streams have sunken to spittle
and the dry scratch of weeds.
We either curse
the ocean child ( La Nina)
sprawling in
 with her hot breath and high pressure
leaving us to lack
months of rain
or we feel cursed
by the canyon god
gusting through the foothills
with dust and flame.
And yet, in a local park
a sparrow lands
on a tarnished fountain
trusting there’ll be
ample drops of water
to splash his wings.

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