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


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