JIM MANNING
MOJAVE
(poetryrepairshop 99.11:130 )
______ All time is here; 
ancient seas, marsh, salt.
I walk up a flaming canyon.
Stones radiant with heat,
prickly pear, sage and rabbit-brush--
bare scorched things.

I clamber over a dry waterfall,
inhale warmth from pale baked clay,
scatter panting lizards.
In and out of light and shadow,
the path narrows to a solitary juniper
against a sliver of sky.
On slopes claret-cup cactus blossom--
Light is scarlet, light is flowing.

Sand shifts, becomes damp, oozing.
Cottonwood leaves dance
to a wind not felt.
I hear a ticking on boulders,
a flare of water over a shelf
of cool fern and a slow gathering
of watery blooms, pink and yellow
--wandering seeds made fruitful.

I too am here.


Poem copyright 1999; all rights reserved. (If you wish to copy or translate this poem, please contact its author)
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