Kate Wells
EVOLUTION
—Kate Wells, Placerville
Desert rock,
bones of the earth
pressed below the Colorado.
Green force,
mathematics swirl white
spray into frenzied light.
Truth is massive here.
Billions of years
recorded in myth
of ageless rock —
Bright Angel Shale,
Zoroaster Granite
Vishnu Schist.
At the bottom of the geologic record,
your imagination goes back 4000 years —
about four feet of canyon.
What do you say to 3,000 feet
of deposition above your head?
1.7 billion-year-old rock
below your feet?
How long does it take for River
to cut a canyon?
River, in its ordained waltz,
moves sand, salt and truth
to the sea.
____________________
Thanks, Kate! After receiving a degree in Anthropology, Kate Wells moved to California to become a raft guide. Seven professions later, she now teaches high school English and lives along the South Fork of the American River where she writes and shares a house with two cats, one dog, two bearded dragons, two children, one husband and four fish.
Come to The Book Collector next Wednesday, October 10 (10-10!) to help us celebrate the release of Kate's new rattlechap from Rattlesnake Press, Spiral, plus Autumn on My Mind, a littlesnake broadside by Mary Field, and #5 in the Rattlesnake Interview Series by B.L. Kennedy—this one featuring Sacramento Poet Laureate Julia Connor. Also released that night will be Conversations, Volume One of the Rattlesnake Interview Anthology Series (a collection of B.L.'s conversations with eleven Sacramento poets)—plus other surprises (and cake!). That's 1008 24th St., Sacramento, 7:30 PM. Be there!
More poems from Kate:
THIS NOVEMBER
—Kate Wells
Trees hold their fire
one more day.
I hold you
one more day.
Not a love letter,
this is for the rest—
for a thousand apologies
for a thousand folded paper cranes
released into this November cold.
(originally appeared in Lilliput)
______________________
SPACES
—Kate Wells
Bats draw
skittering symbols
around the children
in the falling dark.
Out here, no streetlights
paint color
on the pine trees.
No sounds
swallow the silence.
Darkness hold the universe.
Stillness grows the world.
___________________
—Medusa
Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their POETRY, PHOTOS and ART, as well as announcements of Northern California poetry events, to kathykieth@hotmail.com (or snail ‘em to P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726) for posting on this daily Snake blog. Rights remain with the poets. Previously-published poems are okay for Medusa’s Kitchen, as long as you own the rights. (Please cite publication.) For more info about the Snake Empire, including guidelines for submitting to or obtaining our publications, click on the link to the right of this column: Rattlesnake Press (rattlesnakepress.com).
—Kate Wells, Placerville
Desert rock,
bones of the earth
pressed below the Colorado.
Green force,
mathematics swirl white
spray into frenzied light.
Truth is massive here.
Billions of years
recorded in myth
of ageless rock —
Bright Angel Shale,
Zoroaster Granite
Vishnu Schist.
At the bottom of the geologic record,
your imagination goes back 4000 years —
about four feet of canyon.
What do you say to 3,000 feet
of deposition above your head?
1.7 billion-year-old rock
below your feet?
How long does it take for River
to cut a canyon?
River, in its ordained waltz,
moves sand, salt and truth
to the sea.
____________________
Thanks, Kate! After receiving a degree in Anthropology, Kate Wells moved to California to become a raft guide. Seven professions later, she now teaches high school English and lives along the South Fork of the American River where she writes and shares a house with two cats, one dog, two bearded dragons, two children, one husband and four fish.
Come to The Book Collector next Wednesday, October 10 (10-10!) to help us celebrate the release of Kate's new rattlechap from Rattlesnake Press, Spiral, plus Autumn on My Mind, a littlesnake broadside by Mary Field, and #5 in the Rattlesnake Interview Series by B.L. Kennedy—this one featuring Sacramento Poet Laureate Julia Connor. Also released that night will be Conversations, Volume One of the Rattlesnake Interview Anthology Series (a collection of B.L.'s conversations with eleven Sacramento poets)—plus other surprises (and cake!). That's 1008 24th St., Sacramento, 7:30 PM. Be there!
More poems from Kate:
THIS NOVEMBER
—Kate Wells
Trees hold their fire
one more day.
I hold you
one more day.
Not a love letter,
this is for the rest—
for a thousand apologies
for a thousand folded paper cranes
released into this November cold.
(originally appeared in Lilliput)
______________________
SPACES
—Kate Wells
Bats draw
skittering symbols
around the children
in the falling dark.
Out here, no streetlights
paint color
on the pine trees.
No sounds
swallow the silence.
Darkness hold the universe.
Stillness grows the world.
___________________
—Medusa
Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their POETRY, PHOTOS and ART, as well as announcements of Northern California poetry events, to kathykieth@hotmail.com (or snail ‘em to P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726) for posting on this daily Snake blog. Rights remain with the poets. Previously-published poems are okay for Medusa’s Kitchen, as long as you own the rights. (Please cite publication.) For more info about the Snake Empire, including guidelines for submitting to or obtaining our publications, click on the link to the right of this column: Rattlesnake Press (rattlesnakepress.com).
