creative ramblings & reverie

Friday, August 12, 2011

New Mexico Inklings


the red earth
of my childhood:
La Bajada Hill


against rain-blackened
summer mountains,
Santa Fe


abandoned racetrack—
stalls all standing open now,
no quiet whicker of horses


moss roses
in the patio,
this last day of July


linden shadow
on the pale adobe wall,
the ghost of the old cottonwood


And one from just before I left for college, which has swum back to my mind:

croquet in the dark
at the finish of summer,
before we part ways


—Christie

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