February Inklings

a flooded field

planted with white egrets

________

the Pescadero market

with artichoke sausages,

olallieberry jam,

a carton of duck eggs

________

ragged huddles of Christmas trees

in February coastal fields

like highschool students

hanging out together after school

awkward and yet to find themselves

________

a visit to the tea and rug shop

with smoky garnet kilims

to buy a paper packet of

Ancient Beauty oolong

________

a white horse

in a winter field

________

Nebbio winery,

grapes ghosted with fog

________

the sign for carnivorous plants

at one of the roadside nurseries

snapping up customers

________

hand-lettered signs

for local honeycomb,

strawberries, artichokes

________

driving up the coast from Pescadero

to Pomponio to Half Moon Bay

the fields are all impossibly yellow

between ocean and highway,

highway and distant sky, Van Gogh

let loose with an enormous paintbrush

________

the little market at the bottom

of the winding road to Half Moon Bay

offers as it has all the years I can remember

fresh sandwiches and bait & tackle (though

I see the roasted peanuts are now gone),

and today in addition, laid out by the open door,

bright-striped sarapes and a painting of Jesus

—Christie