Daily Bread

"The front courtyard is white with dew
and chrysanthemums secretely drenched with dark."
– Du Fu, from "New Moon"











Our old friend the spring dove returns
and coos her sad notes from the roof.
The song does not match the landscape,
whose green buds have finally blown
and the maple leaves fill every window.
I bend down to the planks of the courtyard
and scrape out a year's mud from cracks.
Beyond the wooden planter walls
the childrens' skateboard wheels
click over the edges of sidewalks
as my mind rests inside fire lily flames.

Pima Canyon

"And so I did the only thing I could think to do when facing such a dilemma. I decided to apprentice myself to a tree. Not to any tree.
To a mesquite." – Gary Nabhan, from Mesquite

"I'll teach you magic mushroom songs..." –
Cold Mountain







Even the canyon in the imagination
sings its songs through aging images
the mesquite trees langour in the thick sun
draping down in a hairdo undine
we listened to the mourning doves
off in the distance make their mellow chants
I spend all day wading around
in dusty dreams and listen to the cacti speak

Pima Canyon

"The seasonal round never stops
one year ends and another begins
ten thousand things come and go..." – Cold Mountain











May is the month for the pelicans
they float down to patrol the bay
back and forth without movement
fickle sunshine sets their white wings ablaze
that is the way of all things
seasons pass and commingle
we read our books and go to work
white pages flip from end to end

Pima Canyon

"My home is below green cliffs
I don't cut weeds anymore
new vines spiral down
ancient rocks stand straight..." – Cold Mountain










Our homes on the river are connected
like linked fences perched on the hill
we grow tall hedges between us all
to watch bald eagles dive by ourselves
from our chairs the bay water is as blue
as the images of old Indian monuments
there is the image of Siddhartha
scattered like jewels over waves silent

Pima Canyon

"I spur my horse past ruins
ruins move a traveler's heart..." – Cold Mountain











These days we drive along
city streets lined by hulking bilboards
advertising cellphones and candy
all the while as the Santa Catalinas
in the rear view breath as quiet stones
we squeeze the life out of our steering wheels
the bighorn leap from canyon walls
to palo verde trees offering water

Pima Canyon

"People ask the way to Cold Mountain
but roads don't reach Cold Mountain..." – Cold Mountain












A little piece of Pima Canyon
stands right here at Centennial Gardens in the city
shale rock stacked sideways
as if in sheets planted by pasque
and the drooping yellow drop of columbine
soil so full of pebbles and dust that if you closed
your eyes and the whirring of the bus
faded you would find the path back to the canyon

Pima Canyon

"Hundred foot trees produced by Heaven
get sawed into giant planks
unfortunate building timber..." – Cold Mountain











Could you live inside the Palo Verdes
near the ocotillo and the mesquites
there is a lush desolation among the riparian
our thirst and our riches live side by side
long blue pools stretch along backyards
dry gardens twist to hold water fountains
here when the sun rises and holds sway
we must part with the king and find shade

Pima Canyon

"Zither and books are up to you
but wealth and power are useless
send back the carriage and heed the wise wife.." – Cold Mountain











The wide eyed traveler follows
the day's long flow of sunshine
as if it were his private crate of gold
back home the rivers crest
and the great herons stand in thin snow
as they pluck at spring fish
sun or rain by April there you are
only ghosts patrol by dreams