The Blue Marble

I walked slowly across the empty landscape

my head bent low,  deep in thought

here I stand in the long empty Camp

struggling to understand what happened

an internment camp filled with thousands

of Japanese American prisoners,

a school, a store, a post office

and the remains of a dozen guard stations

now only slabs of cement,

piles of blackened charcoal

pushed to the edges of each carefully numbered block

the ground now covered with nails

The entire Topaz Interment Camp

razed, pushed from sight and memory

hidden from guilt, far from town,

far from their homes,

now tucked in tight neat rows.

they lived with little to bring comfort

barren of life as they knew it.

so little to remind them of who they were

of what they had been

Shards of a broken plate with a delicate design

imprinted on one side

a rusty chimney pipe stranded

all swept clean in the desert winds

It was here that I found a single blue marble

sitting on the edge of an ant pile.

I picked it up and wiped it clean.

I rolled it over and over in my hand.

I carried it for a time,

in my thoughts I saw a little girl

playing with her single toy.

cramped in tight quarters

so little of what once was carefree.

Those dark eyes and shiny black hair

punctuated the differences

that threatened innocence

a mother, a father not able to supply daily needs

brothers off to war to prove allegiance

to the flag that now flew above the camp

that held them captive

This camp though tight and fearful

was made home by a single beautiful plate,

by art created from so little.

reminders of what they had been

school teams organized and played

by these Americans far from town-

looked at suspiciously and pushed

to the distant desert, exiled

This idea so wrong,
 the penalty so severe

erased by bulldozers and fire

left to fade from memory

this camp named for a gemstone

slowly formed by heat and time

I saw them here in my mind

walking proudly, playing skillfully,

eating, laughing, learning, shining.

I cannot forget them

my emotions rise as I quietly return the blue marble

held sacred in my hands, cradled for a time

as this camp held them,

it became hallowed

I remember

My Passageway

My Passageway

It hung crooked from ancient hinges and years of use.

An odd combination of 2x4s and cross braces,

diagonal wires tugged it into square,

but gradually it sagged and wobbled.

This was my passageway to fun, freedom and childhood imagination...

  My Seven Seas: an old claw-foot bathtub used as a trough.

  Outmaneuvering the goldfish-colored Moby Dick swimming

  below, I captained my boat - careening across monster waves

  to deserted islands. "X" marked the spot to

  unexpected paths which led to buried treasure

  through desert, jungle and exotic sights, sounds and smells.

A large, rusted spring pulling it tightly shut

when stretched, erupted in metallic pings and twangs

every time it opened, seeming to protest.

Then, with a clap and jarring of joints,

the matter was settled with a shout.

With anchor dropped, I cast ashore - penetrating deep into enemy

  territory. I crept silently up on the fortress and stormed the barn-

  like castle portico, dueled foes in battle, and vanquished evil

  warlords. Marvelous bravery, courage and honor won.

A wire looped over the top brace,

worn smooth by sliding into position day after day.

Weather and sun had turned it gray -

the ashen look of age.

I heard the thundering of applause

as I took the field for the final game of the World Series.

I had home-field advantage. I knew every clump and patty.

So real, the crack of bat and the slap of leather,

as everyone vied to be champion. No fence too high as I swung

my bat with a strained grunt, then ran with fire in my feet. I felt

the joy of the conqueror.

Cracks radiated from a single knot hole.

Small fissures spread along the grain.

Most of the cedar post's shaggy bark peeled

and hung around the hinges.

 The smell of summer hung like rose-perfumed air

 that oozed into pores and lifted me dreamily along.

 Lying on my back, lazy clouds drifted over -

 smoke signals from foreign lands calling me to action.

Along the ragged top,

gaps and torn edges lined up as uneven teeth,

gnawed on by a succession of bored horses.

Arched necks stretched to reach untouched pasture,

leaving behind threads of hair tugged loose, stranded.

Night fell... eerie sounds came from the dense aboriginal jungle

as headhunters played hide-n-seek

through endless wire-like vines. I narrowly escaped

impenetrable stands of woods, tight as fences.

Stealth and quick thinking delivered me to safety.

Yet, all drew me homeward

as Mom's voice called me.

A never-ceasing joy flowed in every thought.

Hunger forced itself into my imagination

fatigue slowed my progress.

I made my retreat through My Passageway,

guarded fiercely by the creaks and groans,

and then abruptly slammed shut at day's end.

Summer 2017

The Savory Smell of Silence

The silly bird with frizzled back

Couldn’t fly for feathers lacked.

Would talk and squawk and carry on

From late at night to break of dawn

He’d wake the cows, the ducks, the sheep 
Not a single creature there could sleep 
Because that bird thought he could croon 
His head cocked back, he’d belt his tune 
 

At first all thought he’d go to sleep

If they asked nicely, his silence keep

But no, the more they pled

The more he sang to their dread

He'd shake a leg and sway his hips

With scratching nails on metal skid

And wail off-key on rooftop tin

And raise the hair on head and skin

The farmer's wife would bolt upright

In panic from this sound each night

And jar her husband and shake him up

“Do something with the blasted cuss”

His hearing was a wee bit dim

So wasn’t much annoyed by him

But cock had drawn his final straw

He had tested the limit by waking Ma

So up she sprang and donned her coat

Picked up the axe to cut his throat

Swiftly she reached the barnyard dim

Climbed up and grabbed a hold of him

A smile lit up her face just then

First Silence heard in who knows when

One final song was heard so fine

With savory, silent, soothing lines

A pleasant, restful, bubbling song

For Frizzle cooked in oven warm

The smell so beautiful and clear 
Cooing softly in my ear 

The Clositoths

As I was closing the school down one evening. I found a science vocabulary list in the cafeteria that turned out to be from a 1st grader. Some of the words were hard to read because of they were misspelled and phonetic. I really don't know what word some of them were supposed to be, but they sounded so good rolling off of my tongue. I was inspired to use them to create a mythical place and set of creatures. It was so much fun. This may start a series of fun and non-desert poems. I love to read this one out loud and it always makes me smile. I hope it will do the same for you. I have to thank a 1st grader for the inspiration for this poem.

The Clositoths were small as grapes

with fiery hair of red.

They’d sneak and creep on hands and knees

creating fear and dread.

On Neptinunae’s jagged peak

they’d circle round and round

to gather crystals azure blue

from off this sacred ground.

They’d eat Vinune' with their hands

and smack their lips with glee,

and dance Nearsala’s buoyant song

as high as high can be.

Then plan with stealth

their sneak attack upon unwary foes

and tie with strings and careful knots

their unsuspecting toes.

They’d wait in silence with sparkling eyes

and grins spread miles wide.

Then tickle with a feathers’ breath,

then slip away and hide.

The victim would raise an eyebrow thin,

but ne’er open and eye.

Then reach a hand to scratch a toe

never knowing he’d been tied.

The long last moment finally came

waking from endless dreams.

The Mevema stirs- and trips,
on tiny knotted strings.

The laughter peels from a thousand throats.

The victory had been won!

The Clositoths mischievous plan

was wondrous secret fun.

Dueling Branches and Distorted Faces

Moonless night, dark and sullen

 broken by the sounds of

dueling branches that crack and groan

as they tap, slide and grind against the night.

Silent distorted faces stretch and roll

 on the window pane-

illuminated by curtains of light. 

Incessant wind blows, billowing curtains,

 casting eerie shadows.

A million gusts with angry voices

roar and scream wildly.

Strobes of lightning flash and brighten the clouds-

stabbing the sky, giant drops bleeding  

as they pound the ground with angry fists.

Snake Valley fills with deafening noise.

In time, soft predawn light,

unmasks the demons, scattering them abruptly,

 and throws a mighty, double rainbow on the face of the rain-soaked sky. 

Black Mountain Under Persied Glow

 

starlight rained down from
expansive Milky Way clouds
the moonless night spread
above us telling its ancient story

stretched out on a blanket
lined up as arrows, we listened
to the breeze that carried the 
rhythmic sound of crickets

satellites threaded the quilted sky
meteors showered us 
with phosphorescent light

the darker it got
the closer the stars crept up
the faint glow from heaven 
bathed us

distant lightning flashed 
in the southern sky
aware of us nestled
at the base of Black Mountain

peace penetrated, silently steeping
caressed by the sand, stars and stillness
safe in Earth's upturned arms
blanketed by the afterthought  
of eons old suns

soothed by constellation song
drifting quietly in the night
a night alive with wonder
cradled in nature's embrace

 

 

 

 

Desert, Caves and Streams of the West Desert

Now that we have summer break. I am able to get out and enjoy the wonders of nature. We visited Crystal Ball Cave, an old mine, and Granite Canyon. It was fun to see how different each place is and to see the power of a wind storm obscure the entire area. 

From the mountain looking down at the valley where the school is centered.

We drove around this peak- left overs from Lake Bonneville.

Buckwheat Flowers growing in schist.

Nice holes in the rocks for us to see.

Small changes to a large mountain.

Short trip into the mouth of the old mine.

Our friend giving a rubdown on his bulls. He invited me to come in and give a hand. He wasn't sure if they would like me.

Beautiful Flowering Bushes near Crystal Ball Cave
 

Desert beauty

Cactus Blooms

Formations inside Crystal Ball Cave. Popcorn calcite.

More Popcorn

We were told this is the only way out. Fortunately it is not.

Looks like ice-cream to me.

The cave is filled with wonderful formation all made of different types of calcite.

Neat cave experience. I lost my notebook there while crawling through low passage ways. It is now lost buried in dust and kicked off the main path by myriad feet also exploring. I suppose it will be found by a future anthropologist studying the cave.

Looking at all of this popcorn makes me hungry.

Stacked Calcite crystals

Flowers in Granite Canyon

Butterfly near the stream.

Very cooperative subject.

Can't pass a flower and not enjoy its beauty.

Cool stream to wade in and my son even fell in when he slipped on the algae covered rocks.

Mountains and surroundings at Granite Canyon- Gorgeous day!

Great way to beat the heat.

Crystal clear pine sap, wow!