The Galisteo Basin, 400,000 acres of grassland and hills southeast of Santa Fe, was formed when a portion of the crust of the earth subsided. Like many parts of New Mexico, this area was once covered by the prehistoric Western Inland Sea that stretched from Canada to Mexico.
Racing over the ground
tearing at air, wave after wave
and within each rush of sound
the unease of unspent emotion
as though wind remembers sea
and cannot release memory of its loss.
After the Storm
Color layers the sky
wind penitent, softens
sun edges clouds
washed grass gleams
a rainbow, not an arc but an arrow
dives straight into earth.
A Congregation of One
When the crust of the earth fell the sky grew
into an ache of blue reaching for the edge
only the mountains hold my place.
Barren hills wear the morning alchemy
of light on newly fallen snow
each fragile prism gathered by the sun
as if it never was.
It comes over the hill
as if the sky itself were giving chase
he drives like he rides
wild as a string of horses
racing the moment.
State Road 42
I am a regular parishioner
finding solace in familiarity
the line of trees tracing the river
the Jemez blue against blue
the road’s easy rise and fall
comforting a mind weary from dreams.
Storm clouds build across a reach of sky
sun settles at the long, level horizon
the moon cuts shadows
but it’s stars that hold
all those stolen stars.