Arizona July 3, 2016
Summer morning is not delicate in Arizona
Blatant sunrise, cymbals clanging a Sousa march,
cry of a Valkyrie warrior Deserts and valleys
sizzle A roadrunner stalks an indolent
scorpion Quick attack Its beak snaps shut
Mid morning I walk Max down the hill
An eagle circles above, flying so high I
barely see the yellow beak, white feathers,
pure movement in a cloudless sky
Day unpeels like the skin of a snake,
translucent layers, revelations My senses
heightened, I am a gun dog pointing Morning
is a chorus, a blue and green ballad
Pungent dry pine needles, forest afternoon
Lupine and Indian Paint Brush blossom
Squirrels scurry up trees, chattering,
scolding intruders, cause pine cones
to rustle, drop The wind susurrates
through branches, a comforting sound
Red-orange sunset explodes as I laze
on my porch Bats flit from the eaves,
ravens dive bomb a squirrel, attempt
to hijack his acorns The neighbor’s
beagle bays as a black cat scampers
through my yard In the distance a
train whistle heralds arrival of the
Southwest Chief from Albuquerque
Destination – Union Station, L.A.
A Day In The Life Of
Run hard, fast
Does the eagle see me?
Am I visible?
Each day a new song
Evening glows, bustles
then darkens amidst
mournful sounds, Carpe diem
Will I die in L.A.? "Me morire
en Paris, en aguacero, un dia
cual tengo ya el recuredo" **
. . . perhaps the North Rim,
Grand Canyon, if I'm lucky
"Black Stone Over A White Stone"
Sarah van Praag Leonard is a poet who enjoys writing about the Southwest. She is a retired fitness professional (college teaching, private industry, U.S. Air Force) and her writing is influenced by movement, color, and the western landscape. Her home(s) are in Carefree, Arizona and Flagstaff, Arizona where she happily hikes with her large German Shepherd, Max.
Art: desert guidepost
Artist Statement: Wherever you go, there you are.