Treading Water
a thunderstorm by noon
means geese reflections
will disappear
their surface noise
silenced
in electric air
nests of gray paste
cling to the bridge’s
underbelly where
swallow babies hide
while a great blue heron
wrestles a fat grill
before it rains.
A poem by Steven F. Fuller of Fair Oaks.
Published on 10.15.09
A poem by Tim Kahl of Elk Grove.
Published on 10.08.09
A poem by Bonnie Antonini of Sacramento.
Published on 10.01.09
A poem by Elsie Whitlow Feliz of Sacramento.
Published on 09.24.09
A poem by Pamela Biery of Penn Valley.
Published on 09.03.09