Archive for Nature Poetry – Page 3

What We Have

There are still fall colors here, even in Santa Barbara:
the bright crimson of toyon berries, clustered
against the paling sky, the chartreuse mottling
of sycamore leaves and yellowing rust of bay …

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Listen

A lake lies all alone in its own shape.
It’s not going anywhere.
A lake can wait a long time
for a hiker to come
and camp on its shore.

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