Deserts

Today at dVerse Poet’s Pub, Meeting the Bar, I’m happy to introduce Pamela Sayers, who makes her home in Puebla, Mexico. I’ve always been impressed with Pamela’s ability to capture a sense of place in her poetry. Today she shares with us a bit about her own process of bringing us into the heart of Mexico, and invites us to join her by sharing something of our own, about the place we call home.

Photo: David Slotto
Chaparral CC

While I make my home in the high desert of Reno, Nevada–a short 40 minute drive to Lake Tahoe, when those cold winter winds and snows start getting to our old bones, my husband and I pack up the dogs and head south with the birds to Palm Desert, California. The desert is in my blood from my childhood, when we would head east from the LA area each April to soak in the sun and get our first sunburns of the year (big mistake).This poem is more of a reflection on what the desert means to me, than a travelogue. If you have a sense of deja-vu, I have posted it before!

I look forward to reading as many of your poems as I can and Pamela will support me since my husband and I are currently in the midst of a small renovation project.

Photo Credit: Tim Laman

i
Sometimes something
we judge to be barren
throbs with life.

ii
Wind scatters sand
like gossips spread destruction.

iii
If you go to the desert,
you will see the stars.
Perhaps one of them
holds your life purpose.
Then you are no longer
afraid of the viper’s kiss.

iv
The power of thirst
consumes all other desires.

v
Shifting sands
are like people
who vacillate—
you don’t know
where you stand.

vi
The desert is a canvas—
open to splashes
of vibrant color.

vii
The desert is
a state of mind.
Are you alone?
Or lonely?

viii
The desert is
a place of temptation.
There the devil tempted
Jesus—
bread,
greed,
power.
Nothing has changed.

ix
If you try
to leave your mark
upon the desert,
Nature will erase it.
Wind.
Earthquake.
War.
We don’t really matter.

x
The hotter it gets,
the fewer people hang around.

xi
Many people
do not understand
the beauty of the desert
or of wrinkled faces.

xii
At some point
you will visit a desert
and discover
aridity.

xiii
When the desert blooms,
you will find grace.

April Desert

A poem celebrating spring, linked to Poetry Potluck http://jinglepoetry.blogspot.com/  for this week’s challenge: Color, Rainbows, Spring.

Linked to One Shot Wednesday: http://onestoppoetry.com/

Visit this site and browse some up-coming and seasoned poets and add a poem of your own if you like.

 

 

 

April Desert

The scent of flowering citrus trees
overpowers pungent Lantana
sprawling
beneath the window sill.

A mockingbird rules
from his perch on the chimney,
fills the air with
sacred song.

Palm trees relinquish fronds,
accede to winds
blowing from the West,
bow graciously.

At home, in the Sierra,
a layer of snow
swathes the budding
daffodils.

I lean against the knotted bark
of my ancient pepper tree,
crush its fruit,
taste the warmth of Spring.

Special Post–Leucistic Hummingbird

D. Slotto 4/2011

D. Slotto 4/2011

D. Slotto 4/2011

We are receiving frequent visits from a pure white (Leucistic) hummingbird.

He is friendly when we approach him at the feeder and has even flown up to my husband who has been able to take a number of photos.

Leucistic hummingbirds are rare, but albino hummers are rarer. Leucistic hummers have dark eyes, while those of albinos are pink. These small birds are vulnerable to predators because of their light color.

In American Indian lore, hummingbirds represent joy. White is a symbol of purity and truth.

PURE JOY

 My husband, David, took these photos. We do not have photoshopping capabilities here but when we return home he will work with them and many other photos he has captured.

This little fellow inspired the poem I submitted to Poetry Potluck: http://liv2write2day.wordpress.com/2011/04/25/revelation-poetry-potlucks-theme-of-art-music-and-poetry/

For more information on this beautiful little creatures, visit: http://www.rubythroat.org/AlbinoMain.html

 

February Desert

Submitted to Lady Nimue’s Months-of-the-Year Challenge: http://ladynimue.wordpress.com/2010/12/01/challenge1-months-of-the-year-challenge/

February Desert

Even in the desert, February
winds harass the trees,
whipping fronds from their palms.

Hummingbirds seek shelter
in clumps of orange Lantana,
appear surprised by winter’s onslaught.

Mother joined us for a Valentine’s
Day visit. Alone for too many years,
she still cannot befriend the loneliness.

That night the desperate clamor of frogs
promised us an early spring
Wind howled its objection.

Perfect Poet Award from Jingle–10/8/10

Image via Wikipedia

Perfect Poet’s Award from Jingle: 10/8/10–Thank You

Desert Swan: a Haiku

An errant golf ball

killed our peaceful desert swan.

Serenity died.

Sorry to do a sad one but when I saw the image I had to memorialize the beautiful swan we lost last year. Our home  (my mother’s, actually) in Palm Desert is on the 12th hole of a golf course, a water hazard. When I first began visiting my parents there, in the early 1980′s, there was a pair of swans. A few years later, the female was hit by a car, and the male remained alone. His job was to spar with the mallards who would visit, scaring them off to another hole. Last year my cousin came to visit and told us, when he arrived, that he thought something was the matter with the swan…indeed, there was. He’d been cold-cocked by a golf ball. It’s hard to describe the beauty he used to bring in the early morning hours when the rising sun cast a glow on the Santa Rosa Mountains, and reflected back onto the still water. He has not been replaced, to our chagrin.