Diversions

Driving through Nevada I think on investing
in traffic cones, left lane ends, prepare to stop.
It's hard to find a bookstore, none in Fallon,
the one in Elko doesn't have a poetry section,

and there are no Navajo bookstores
on the reservation. Ruby and Mike
storm into the bookstore in Cedar City,
he's the core, the center that holds the system

together, she's the wind swirling around
grabbing stories off the shelf. I drive west
to my hermitage on the coast,
where I'm not thinking of someplace else,

where I don't close the door, where a noise
at two in the morning doesn't make me think
of zombie-body-snatchers, where Linda's fresh
mixes with my marine layer.

When I want poetry on the reservation
I find Mary Littletree, and try to not get diverted.

Conquer Ku

in the garden
battleground –
plum blossoms

~

a mosquito
offends my hide –
SPLAT

~

rolling waves
ride a winter storm
over the breakwater

~

a morning of icy fog –
a sunlight splinter enters
the kitchen window

~

through the long night
the neighbor dog
whimpering

Plums

In spring's first warm days
I walk the plum orchard
and get to know the blossoms and scents.
In the first days of autumn
I gather plums for wine.

Barbarians and winter winds
are at the western wall, I hear the trumpets
and smell the dust cloud.
The plum wine brings back a spring walk
and the long faded blossoms.

The plum trees are old, three are left,
the barbarians cut one for firewood,
I grieve for the blossoms.

Talisman Ku

the high desert
hangs a rain tail
from a cloud

~

Destruction Island
protects Ruby Beach
from wayward sailors

~

for luck I hang
a full moon
over the garden

~

a vulture circles
seven times
before landing

~

a sealion wears
fishing gear
around his neck