Photo by Ed Haskell
John and Audrey Miller and I visited Courtright Reservoir earlier this summer for some high Sierra hiking and climbing. I got an earlier start to our first full day than I’d planned. Coyotes gathered on Spring Dome’s eastern slabs, fifty yards or so from my cot, and greeted dawn with great enthusiasm – woke me up! I wrote a poem about it and Nature Writing’s editor Ron Harton included it on his fine page. Especially note Ed Haskell’s photo! Here’s the link:
Photo by Ed Haskell
An old friend passed away some years back. She was born into a South County pioneer family and, though a world traveler and Berkeley educated, her deepest affection was for her ranch and all the rural folks who make their living from a none too gentle land. I tried to show a little bit of that in this poem. I thank editor Jayne Jaudon Ferrer for including it on her excellent poetry page!
Editor Lorette Luzajic included a new poem of mine in her Ekphrastic Review. She paired it with the photo above that son Jon took some years back. It’s a great treat to me to have my words enhanced by his great images and shared with the world. I’m hoping for a shared book – someday! Here’s the link:
Son Jon made a notable journey through New Zealand a few years back. He went far and high and by himself to take many wonderful photos. I paired one with a mountain poem of mine and the Ekphrastic Review just published both. Do take a look.
Photo by Jon Walton
I thank Editor Jayne Jaudon Ferrer for including my brief poem on Your Daily Poem. It seems to have pleased and I’m glad. I always try to keep it simple!
When my sons were small, we drove across deserts, mountains and plains to reach Iowa, often leaving before dawn so they could sleep. Leonard’s ladies of the harbor and Suzanne sang us through sagebrush wastes and endless Nebraska wheat. Years passed and older son Jeremy became friends with Lorca, Leonard’s daughter. Lonely miles eased by good songs and my son’s friendship prompt me to offer this poem in Leonard’s memory.
My poem “Brew of Bolts” was recently published in Verse Virtual. It’s a tribute to both of my grandfathers and to America on Veterans Day. I have to give a nod to Carl Sandberg. I didn’t set out to emulate him, but great poets often pull lesser ones along with them. Here’s the poem and the link:
A brew of bolts
And nuts and nails
Stewed in the musty bottom drawer
Of my grandfather’s tool chest.
I stirred them with a finger,
Awakened clinking voices
Of Ford pickups, IH tractors and
Bursting through Atlantic waves
Bound for England
Or a U-boat’s torpedo.
America – with a sweaty collar and
Calloused hands –
America, the beautiful.