sunsets

Two New Poems for National Poetry Month

/ Juliana Lightle / 2 Comments

Rainy Day

sheets of rain against the kitchen window

heavy fog hides mountain peaks

scarlet hibiscus and bougainvillea brighten

a gloomy day

Dusk

The wind died; stillness pervades.

A distant train whistle interrupts.

Tiny brown bird chirps its chitty song.

Mountains display navy blue and purple.

The western sky becomes cantaloupe color.

Evening

/ Juliana Lightle / Leave a comment

Rose remnants float in my palm

the color

of fresh blood

of sunsets

cerise, burnt orange, gold.

 

A pale blue dragon

thunders

across a salmon sky.

 

Slowly indigo night

descends,

only the coyotes sing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rain

/ Juliana Lightle / Leave a comment

months of nothing

six inches below normal

suddenly late afternoon

downpours, flooding

three waterfalls off canyon cliff

double rainbow

birds sing evensongs

and now this

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Day 127

/ Juliana Lightle / Leave a comment

Tan grass stretches miles and miles as far as eyes can see.

The water in the indigo bird bath evaporates in one day.

Playa lakes, full last summer, surrounded then in emerald grass, lay waterless.

Thirty-five miles an hour winds create fog-like clouds of dust across the horizon.

Grit, wind hurled, buffets cars and trucks driving down the long, straight highways.

Dust-fed sunrises and sunsets clad skies in orange, hot pink, vermillion, violet, mauve.

Day 127 with no measurable precipitation.

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Note:  I wrote this ten days ago.  That evening it rained .01 inches.  None since then.  We are approaching four months with just that .01 inches, nothing more.  Every time it warms and the winds come, the weather forecast mentions high fire danger.  All counties and state parks near here have burn bans.  March is a windy month.