Fairytale Princes

—Poems and Photos by Taylor Graham, Placerville, CA
 

YERBA SANTA

Cusp of equinox. We set out with our dogs;
the coming season summoning its scents.
Annual grasses dead and brittle as old paper.
Only Yerba Santa glistens, stiff and spiny,
evergreen life in the driest places. Holy herb,
they say, it frees heart and lungs so the body
can breathe and the soul can grieve.
This dirt road skirts the graves of dead dogs
past. Our living dogs go trotting on ahead.
A morning walk has brought us into autumn.

CRAVINGS

Open window with a direct view
on September. Convection bouncing off
the opposite hill, an echo-chamber of heat.
Everywhere drought has left its mark.
Dry fields, dry pond craving wet.
Last sip of coffee, a stolen moment.
I need to clean the kitchen floor.
Fetch my rag-mop hanging from the deck,
drying. Dunk it in my bucket.
This enchantment, sunlight swirling water-
colors—and out swims a frog
in bright yellow tights, somersaults
from bucket to linoleum.
Could this be a fairytale prince,
or just another endangered species?

THEY LIVE HERE TOO

The trails I’ve hiked—dragonflies on the creek;
flag-tail flight of deer; glimpse of fox. Rock
heaps and knee-high grasses, weeds pesky if not
noxious; snakevine twining up stockwire.
And snakes—careful where I step; and still,
the unexpected meeting. Buzz-saw sizzle
and a coil of metallic scales glistering in sun.
Cold pulse of rattlesnake. For the rest of the day
I feel a slither at the slightest touch of breeze. 

SHADOW DANCE OF HOUSEHOLD PALS

Time to turn
out the last kitchen
light. But look,
Gnat hovers,
flirting with electric-bright.
It calls to Spider.

Dare I turn
out the cabinet light?
Has Spider
had a meal
since I flicked a fly into
the web?
A young spider, still

inept at
the kitchen-web dance.
Now Gnat is
wallflower
of bright-white tile, now closer…
Spider springs. Gnat’s gone. 

SHARING OUR HOUSE

Scurry-scuttling somewhere in the wood-
work—rustling in old newspapers by the door.
Loki dashes from pantry to kitchen cabinet;
she inhales essence of mouse from underneath
the desk. Rodents have grown too numerous
and hungry. Tooth-marks in green tomatoes
ripening on the sill. Chewed-off plastic top of
salad-dressing cruet. One raw onion gutted.
We set traps, find mouselings in the morning
dead with tiny, empty hands, faces
like Country Mouse in a children’s book.
My dog doesn’t care for dead mice.
She only loves the hunt. What can we do?
This household has no interloping
human malingerers; they prefer motels.

UNDERCOVER RESIDENT

Unspoiled morning
till Loki’s in a frenzy-passion
at the sliding-glass door.
Out on the deck,
that cantankerous ground-squirrel’s
taunting, thumbing his bristly nose at her,
abruptly gone
through the dark triangle
from which he issued, a gap behind
the steps—
Disappeared to unknown parts
of our house which now seem to be his.

FLOWER OF THISTLE

Just past equinox, I’m walking among
our fall-tarnished oaks. Bull-thistle stops me
with its desiccated blossom, pure white
as angel fluff. In spring it blooms royal purple.
Then, nondescript as the plant turns summer-
beige. Goldfinch adores it for its seeds.
Now the flower looks like bristly snowballs
at tip of the thistle-king’s scepter.
Is this overnight magic? Or just the natural
way of thistle through seasons,
and I haven’t been paying attention?

_____________________

Today’s LittleNip:

Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.

—Albert Camus

_____________________

Many thanks to Taylor Graham for today’s fine autumnal poetry and photos! She, too, managed to include the phrase, “interloping human malingerers”, into a poem, as I challenged in last week’s Seed of the Week: Household Pals. Don’t forget that our new Seed of the Week is Homesick. Send your poems, photos & artwork about this (or any other) subject to kathykieth@hotmail.com. No deadline on SOWs, though, and for a peek at our past ones, click on “Calliope’s Closet”, the link at the top of this column, for plenty of others to choose from.

US Poet Laureate Tracy K. Smith will soon be launching a weekly podcast and radio program called “The Slowdown”.  On podcast, it will begin Nov. 26, and it will be offered to public radio stations in January 2019. Tracy will read works by other writers, and she says she will “explore the role of poetry in the contemporary world”. Check it out at www.brooklyneagle.com/articles/2018/10/4/poet-laureate-tracy-k-smith-launching-podcast-radio-show/.

Poetry Unplugged at Luna’s Cafe meets on 16th St. in Sacramento tonight at 8pm, with featured readers and open mic. And over in Davis, Poetry in Davis will present John Dorsey and Victor Adam Clevenger, plus open mic, also 8pm at the John Natsoulas Gallery on First St. 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

Cheeky ground squirrel

 (Well, they live here too, Loki…)
Celebrate the poetry of ground squirrels!
—Anonymous Photo

Photos in this column can be enlarged by
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in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.