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