1/29/2006

Palos Verdes

Far-up the mountain
cliffs among white lines
of rain- a single thought

occurred and I placed
it in my pocket.

Further down, where
life becomes a tunnel
between the hills, brush
overcomes the thighs,

covets the migrant;

clings seedlings
to cotton cloth-

another reminder.

Green-grey is my theme
today and gasping purple
wildflowers too tiny
to understand nature's

disconcern
with land-bound
existence.

Consider the sky-

smug, pensive
and splitting
with decisions.

2 comments:

Nobius said...

This one is great. I did link to you on my BLOG as well. I'll have to get some more poetry up myself soon.

Rachel Phillips said...

Thank you Nobius!