Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Death Will Meet Me
© carol voccia 2009
Death will gently meet me in the desert
Offering to quench my last thirst
Holding up a cup of spring to wash away my dry
Let me dive into it like a canyon wind
Sipping the endless drink
I will swallow whole the world and sky
Clinging to the moon in silent
Dress me in a drape of stars
Declare my dust and
Blow my ashes to the sun
Keep me warm in the endless dark
Death will keep me in the dew
Holding tight its arid frost
Marrying me in the ground forever
Until we meet again in the howling desert
I will gently meet you with a cup of spring
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Dying is Hard Business
© carol shoot 2008
Gravity presses the throat
Each breath labors in shallow gasps
The sky mocks the air sucking in and out
Nailing stained sheets with grey sweat
And clammy brine
Steel eyes stare to the world beyond
Mouth parched and gaping, calling home
Too late for prayers
For they are being answered with
Tapping time slowly measured in
A hollow drum
A faded beat
A white rain
Suspended silent in its last reflecting drop
Saturday, January 3, 2009
The Rock in January
The Rock in January writen in reference to my days in San Luis Obispo County and Morro Bay California (c) carol voccia 2007 The spine of the ancient valley All but disintegrated into dust Save the last vertebrate Poking its rugged slate in the sand Lapping surf edged horizontal to the Morro.
A moss drenched reminder that Once lava flowed to the sea And the earth quaked in spasms Along the San Andréa's and other slips of rock Inching minuscule moments As one continental plate went north The other traveled south over Ten million millenniums of time
The valley of sweeping grass feeding bovine, steer Fragile lambs, sheep and herds of goats and other hooves Furrowing sweet roots and thick green blades As the centuries moved from native brown to Spanish monks Thieves of land squatter, settler, merchant and rogues of commerce Farmers and cattle ranchers prevailed While the rock stood stoic Silently guarding the gores Of fishermen belching and hooking the gills Of the seas bounty
The bay lying at its feet took Shape designed by a huge sand bar running north and south Dredged its depths for docks But not deep enough to host monumental ships of enterprise Housing only small craft and sail boats lazily bobbing in the sandy shallows Lapping along the tranquil bay And the rock stood stalwart casting a granite eye Over green waters watching, its brooding eroded jetty Ragged and seaworthy Glanced to the wide pacific Peering in fog and some time slanting sun streams Over vasts of sea to thin horizon promising Exotic places far in its endless west.
And, here I stand along a humble wooden dock Soaked in briny salt Grey dappled sweater wrapped around me Rose cheeks lifting a smile On my lips Contemplating along lines of water tide and crashing wave Small gulls over head cawing against Water breeze and slapping swells
All history brings to this place My standing watch, gazing, and thinking Of the others before me and the ones who will follow Tossing the moments of wind and bobbing boats My mind strikes against the Sea leaking its cross against tides Gashing cliffs chucking up abalone hulls For gulls to pluck and feed from the bounteous pacific
It's the end of another year And the beginning of all that is new and unfolding As the sea and the eye of its grey mineral rock Casts its arm and lava breast to the west kissing the Angled sun
Hold up the coastline, my friend, For a trillion more moments As I turn and start a new January |