So different up close
from the desert I know,
more resinous, dark,
alive to the beetles
and pocket mice
who call your ancient creosote ring
home, who after rain,
when you’re starred with spring,
pattern the salt-earth
with their pattering
in this alluvial
shell of a valley
where the wind can’t help
but sing.
Category Archives: California Wild Project
Coast Live Oak
Even on mild days
we seek your shade,
bare legs painted
in shadows of leaves.
Nearby, a stream
cuts its soft seam to the sea,
a hawk overhead circling.
Sun-bleached Manzanita
In a drift of sage
your smooth bones remain,
rusted bark gone
along with your life of leaves.
I would have liked to ride
in the stage that made its way
to Santa Cruz,
this low mountain pass
more than just a day hike then,
when you grew
young and fast.
My One True Ocotillo
So dry, all spine—
I thought maybe you died,
but with the rain
you’re armored
in tiny leaves again.
I like the way you hold your flowers
just above the moon,
my one true ocotillo,
carefully scribbled
against the sky.
Matilija Poppy
In your lonesome
coastal canyon
you send rhizomes
through the sand. Queen
of California flowers—overexposed
in my open hand.
Why you stabilize
this hillside
I will never understand—
I would let it slide
but I am not so married
to the land.
You hold the air!
You burn my eyes!
Your crinkled neon white
and ruff of yolk-gold
enough to please
our native bees—
I would not love this place
if you could leave.