Hard Labor

—Poems and Photos by Taylor Graham, Placerville, CA

HARD LABOR

He drove off—dredge and sluice box,
shovel, bucket, and pan—as the first snow-
flakes furred his windshield.
He kept on driving up-mountain as the river
kept on scouring, revising the canyon.
Storm brings out the gold, he says.
Found a promising spot, set up camp,
sluice in the water. Couldn’t work more than
a couple of hours, account of the snow.
Hypothermia weather. Back to his camp
to warm. Searched out another spot. Snowing
as he hiked his gear down-ravine.
“Managed to get a hole to bedrock but
it was just too cold.” Is he crazy, digging
for what time and river haven’t carried away?
What settles heavy in his pan, what
pocket or hand can hold. Delving
for what might be gravel,
might be gold.

IMPROVISING HOPE

You asked for a poem about Hope.
I was sitting at my typewriter
in the gallery, under the gaze of a hawk—
a Redtail—photographed
on its circling spiraling soaring-on-updrafts
hunt for a meal.
The photographer far below, hoping
for a perfect shot.
Hope is the thing with feathers;
wings playing currents of air; keen-eyed
for prey.
The man with his zoom lens.
I at my typewriter, fingers searching
the keys. Hope keeps all
its senses poised, focused, open.

ON THE OTHER HAND

On wide wings, feather-fingered
hands extended to sail the updrafts,
turkey vulture’s a dark parachute
uncommitted to earth.
Not guilty, just hungry.
Once on land, a miserly stench
we turn away from;
secretive, filthy with foul.
But for now, just watch him
soaring free, fresh air.

RESILIENCE
    Institute of Forest Genetics

We drive past the cottonwood enclave
waving fluent greetings all vibrant
deciduous against dark flank of pines.

Old photos show the buildings and barren
sloping fields without a tree—
now an arboretum of plant survival.

A sign tells us genetic diversity
is vital for adapting to climate change.
Resilience is everything.

It’s hard work, saving a species
for some future we couldn’t imagine till
it peers in a window, rattles the door.

Be tentative and flexible,
open to any chance, flight of seed-
wings, improvisation.

Here in one of the cabins, artist-
in-residence shows her mixable palette
to kids from the alternative school.

The gene pool’s a treasure-house
of pollen from not-so-far away, related
but not too close; stronger so.

Inside this gate, a school for learning
what we thought we knew,
the world changing faster than we do. 

FIELD SONG

Make no mistake, the place has a language,
a Golden Shovel on Philip Levine’s “Coming Close”

This weed-eaten field, sun-brittled. Bees make
sounds of gleaning over stubble that shows no
sign of life. One might wonder if it’s a mistake
on their part. There must be a plan here, the
reason for rote hard work seeming futile. Place
has its tasks, repetitious beyond words; has
its demands like breathing. How to explain a
song that keeps repeating outside your language?

SO MUCH I DON’T UNDERSTAND

My dog is following his quarry—a friend
who walked this way, along the arboretum path.
A matter of trust, believing my dog.
There’s a sign explaining how seeds from pines
across the canyon became these tall-spired
Ponderosas. What labor of collecting, planting,
nurturing; how many years from seedling
to towering tree.
My dog veers a bit off-trail.
Maybe a late-August breeze blew scent
that way, as pollen is carried by wind.
The pines sway slightly, cathedral dancing
slow-motion rooted as my dog pulls me along.

____________________

Today’s LittleNip:

ZAPPAI FOR HOLIDAY

all those cars hurry
up the highway or else down,
going somewhere else

a convoy of trucks
hauls bright-colored pieces of
thrill rides, carousel

punctured basketball


you salvaged from a trash bin—


dog has a new game

______________________

Thanks to Taylor Graham for these fine poems and pix! She writes that today’s photos are from “the Institute of Forest Genetics where we sometimes train our dogs, most recently this past Wednesday.” Training, of course, means keeping up their dogs’ noses for Search-and-Rescue.

For more about the zappai poetry form, see www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/zappai-poetic-form/.

Several opportunities for poetry readings in our area today: in addition to Poetry Unplugged at Luna’s Cafe in Sacramento (8pm), Poetic Justice II will feature Terry Moore and others at Laughs Unlimited in Old Sac., 8:30pm. Plus, Poetry in Davis will present J.K. Fowler and MK Chavez (plus open mic), also 8pm. Scroll down to the blue column (under the green column at the right) for info about these and other upcoming poetry events in our area—and note that more may be added at the last minute.

—Medusa

 —Anonymous Photo
Celebrate poetry!

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