Wednesday, March 16, 2022

Mark A Fisher

from the Kingfisher archive

equinox


spring ain’t here yet

she’s dancing up the hillsides

to the beat of birdsong

pouring wildflowers

across a greening canvas


spring ain’t here yet


with snow still forecast

coming in for a moment

to close the town down

but merely for a day

of deserted slushy streets


spring ain’t here yet


the neighbor’s fruit trees

have already bloomed

and bees are buzzing

‘round my rosemary

still bent from the last snow


spring ain’t here yet


I see heron’s bill flowers

wilting in pulled piles of weeds

while raven’s croak pick-up-lines

and do their sexy dance

‘neath the tree they’ll nest


spring ain’t here yet


the other day I saw a swallow

as winter’s grip loosens

while the sun moves on north

and the constellations change

much like in ancient days


but — spring ain’t here — yet




from the Kingfisher archive

Zzyzx Road


I-15 right before Baker ending at Soda Springs

where Mojave Tui Chub swim the salty water

flowed through sand to reach the surface and sun


lizards lie still in rocky washes themselves to sun

as young desert bighorn in abandon spring

on hillsides far away from the smell of water


seldom here come storms to water

wildflower seeds waiting beneath the desert sun

for when everywhere the vernal bloom springs


to wash like water suddenly springing

against the rocky shore below a kinder sun

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