Sunday, May 17, 2015

The Scent of Almond Blossoms

On early March mornings, as tule fog
begins to lift in California’s Central Valley,
winter’s skeletons transform into trees
and a blush of almond blossoms
carpet orchard floors.

Most every morning, I’d walk through
the dappled light of the alabaster canopy
until I reached the canal, where I’d sit,
adjust my headphones, and lean back
against the scaly bark of my familiar tree

Getting high on the scent of almond blossoms,
nature’s perfume, while Miles’ sweet-cream
trumpet played Gershwin’s “Summertime”
when the livin’ was easy
when the trees were still young

Before the scent of burnt almond
permeated the autumn sky—
before the Valley nodded off
for another winter, when the trees—
and I—were still young.

text & photo by leh

Saturday, May 16, 2015

Haiku XV, XVI

hummingbird hovers
so close I feel its wings’ breeze
cool my parchment lips

pollen everywhere
on mesquite, under mesquite
wafting in spring air

text & photo by leh

Saturday, March 14, 2015

One Day In May

Hey, Sis
how’ya doin’?
I know, dumb question.
I got here in time--

didn't I?
Driving from Vegas
memories of
our crazy sister shit
raced through my mind.
The desert does that—
focuses, clarifies.
Can you hear me?
It’s a beautiful day
the sun is out – no fog –
the ocean sparkles –
diamonds and sapphires.
Remember the last time
we sat on Capitola Wharf?
So vibrant
like a Van Gogh painting—
starry, starry afternoon—
boats bobbing on the bay.
Forgive my babbling.
Does it bother you?
Wish I could cry
feel – something.
God, I miss you.

Here, let me lay beside you.
I’ll keep you warm.

text & photo by leh