← v10n1, Spring 2011
Poetry · Volume 10, Number 1

At the Lawrence Ranch

Inside the tulle of curtain

table with battered typewriter

                                    boiled by—

                                    someone—as

revenge (story’s apocryphal)

Outside the tumble of cord

                                    over stacked

wood and

            tumult of

untrammeled branch with

an arc above

            the peeling bark

Sturdy snow

pearling up on

                      mountain

                                  cliff

We have climbed the dirt road

past piñon, blue sage, to the old pine

“the tree-trunk there like a guardian

angel”—genus Seriphidium—

                                             Nowhere’s

the name of the inscrutable

            maker

                        Marker

                                    of plumed

and ribald solitude wherein

“close quarters tempers flared”