Poem: Tujunga Arroyo

 

Tujunga Arroyo

 

willow and nicotiana

hobo along the arroyo,

leafy plumage of anemic jungle birds.

strata stash squashed stones in the banks,

catastrophe upon extinction,

sabertooth pupils, long-slitted in black veins,

gazing above shark teeth.

 

my sandals, lost in the aftermath,

sink into dry quicksand

to kick up blossoms of dust.

empty orchids and not-really-there mallows

ogle me with their two-seconds of life.

 

i come to a place

where crows interpenetrate shadows,

both seeking shelter, both scrutinous,

demanding proof that the blackness

will not soon die.

 

the gulch has ruptured here,

warded by the fronds of an old pepper—

a place where coyotes come to take rabbits,

and burrs cast hooks,

anglers at a waterless stream.

 

not so deep in the sand-hissed heat

minnow eggs bide their time.

yes, one day, algae will wave, the real thing,

victorious in immersion,

while frogs swell their vivid backs,

harrumphing about the short shrift

of amphibian orgies.

 

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