Arts + Scene » Poetry

Reasons to Call New York



(Trinidad, 2006)

Pumpkin shell
finally rotted
I made dirt!

Little black dog
trotting across the yard behind
black bear cub

The tall trees of myth
beckon the salmon to come
and drop their eggs

Buddha-bellied raccoon
sits comfortably on the couch
eyeing the remote

Soft as the rain that falls
through the redwood branches
my son's warm cheek

yellow hot yellow day
yellow road yellow dusk mountain
lion warning

Twenty years ago
I would have sat in a tree
negotiating blood for sap

Adoption, the magic word
we have a small son
California born

Highway 101
and Jerry on the radio

Black and white cows
stand knee deep in mud
next to egrets


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