CUL-DE-SAC

We left our ride behind and we walked a long path

On the road to the hill that was crowned with rare pines.

From the blufftop it fell down a slope to the sea

Through trails lined with sage and California blue lilac 

To a beach with smooth rocks, they were strewn on the sand

And the waves made us shout to match their loud chorus.

It was high tide. Didn’t know if the beach would be there

But it was. Stretched beneath the morning’s brisk air. 

We held hands like lovers as we walked, didn’t run,

As the clouds and the ocean mist hampered the sun. 

It was a new day that we’d made into one

With two lives that together had a much greater sum.

She’s lying in bed when I find her in there

Her head on a pillow as if she’s aware

Of the view that you’ll have of her good looking profile

But she’s nothing but silence. She’s nothing but stillness. 

Stillness profound as her spirit has left 

Her body’s cool flesh. Of her soul it’s bereft 

So now memories, just memories remain there in place.

Like old photos when she looked just like Lauren Bacall.

And the stories of dust storms at her house on the farm 

When they’d seal doors and windows. Put wet rags in the cracks

When they’d plow rows with horses and she’d ride their broad backs. 

Like her dad she was quiet and her temper was even 

Just a girl with black eyes in those old family pictures  

She stood still. Didn’t really enjoy the attention 

Now she’s still in her bed. And so what would she mention? 

Maybe crying when children would sing right in tune.

Maybe seeing her shadow in the light of the moon.  

But she saw a true world. Didn’t wax sentimental.

Some memories are hard but I’ll try to be gentle

And I’ll do all the things that you do with the dead.

I’ll hear people be sorry. I’ll remember her love.

That’s fine. She’d say, fine. Now you’ve done enough.” 

Rows of corn blanket the land 

Small towns look smaller each year

You wonder what was there before the corn.  

Forest? Grass? Wandering people?

But when twilight burns the sky 

And the stalks stand like soldiers

Those plants that were sown by nature 

That held the earth in their shelter

They’re gone. 

So are the tribes that were here 

That gave their name to the state

And now there’s a new face

On the place where I grew up  

And the land it just blew up 

With the wind. In the rivers. 

Where it’s gone we don’t know.  

We will gather what we sow.