for eb
Who knew leaves could land like this. Twin silhouettes
on wet pavement. Half a century of travel to meet again,
sisters. Water and sap through veins.
Decades of San Joaquin Valley orchards of orange
fed by concrete aqueducts. Leafless hedges like
oversized bonsai in the hundred degree heat.
But then, under San Francisco Bay’s sky
eucalyptus scent so heady it’s medicinal, this arrival
on spindly fronds. Your familiar intonation.
Such root pressure and photosynthesis, this rush
toward one another and countless years of
understanding. Sun prints of snowy white on indigo paper.
A piñon sprig that hosts the edible nut
buried in thick coffee-colored skin, cracked open.
Rainfall conversation.
Geography no hindrance.
Just the mention of your name.
This is amazing!!!!!
ReplyDeleteLinda, thank you. I apologize that I’ve not seen your flattering comment until now.
ReplyDelete