rd king DOT net : American Summer

American Summer

Poems written while traveling.
A Trip Toward the Coast


1:  Drift

The lavenders' lavender sprays like a lawn
being sprinkled.  Wind through the pines.
This June light.  The lavenders' sprays;
the lawn being sprinkled.  A butterfly
swaying on the butterfly iris bud.


2:  Being Eddy

I liked the fertile resonance
my life then possessed—the time
on my hands; the loose change
in my pants pocket; the kind way
the sun brightened the angles
      on your pretty face.


3:  Sand and Foam

Sea palms rocking on the rocks.
White water swells and backswells—
the continual agitation reaching
      for my toes.
I found some seashells on the shore
and a finally cleansing meditation.


4:  At the Lagoon

Ocean spray masking the summer's heat.
The wind keeping everything in motion—
an idle afternoon with children at
the woody lagoon.  Dogs in the side
channels; the children's soap bubbles
      burst by the swaying reeds.


5:  Privilege

I found a condom on the beach.
I found a leg bone.  All morning
I fancied Jesus as a speeding boat.
Choosing a pebble from the water's edge
      I changed its location.


6:  Carmel by the Sea

1st of July, the village swells
with perfunctory anticipation
and fog; those for whom the ocean
is a rare delight gather in clumps
on the main beach and marvel.

The old woman, the local,
whose pleasure it is to jog
the often empty wet shore,
moves quickly through the throng.


7:  Ocean Frolic

Water playing on the rocks, water
prancing; water racing upshore
like boys from their mother—amphibian
dexterity.  A small swell quietly rises,
and with a slap, surprises his brother.


8:  Day at the Beach

Her disarming breasts, a cut foot,
the endless patience of young men
in wet suits; waves.  A day
at the beach—beach light; the pseudo-
munificent gesture of the ocean's
      exquisite offerings.


9:  Soledad

Something growing there on the alluvial
fan; something domestic.  Something
also in the exchange between agriculture
and the left-alone.  Lettuce, cauliflower,
the elusive in neat geometrical planes.


10:  Seen and Not Seen

I found a bird nest by the oak.
I saw a water snake in the creek.
During the hike my mind slowly
emptied.  Only later did I note
the photograph I had just taken.


11:  Shift, Uplift

Hiking now on the knuckled ridge.  Dwarfed
by the jumble and exposed tectonics—
wearied by summer sun, embellished
by the wind, to that ruddy place
where the uplift rises in ribbed cliffs
      succinctly toward something.


12:  American Summer

Stained glass window in the side door
of a lengthy motorhome.  Pin striping,
trout decals, the allure of the open road.
An ancient relative with cigarette and cocktail
bent armed at the dining table, regarding
      the rush hour crawl.




        back | ToC | next
rdking.net

Poetry

American Summer

A Trip Toward the Coast
