sunset casts shadows
yet we see only colors
and glorious light
—Terri Guillemets
sunset casts shadows
yet we see only colors
and glorious light
—Terri Guillemets
in nature i am
water in the breeze
going with the flow
in society i thrash
every cell halting
resistance grows
i become boulder
thrown off cliffs
accelerating through
no choice of my own
landing hard
splitting open
shattering into
everything wrong
—Terri Guillemets
it is raining!
no, not water
from clouds
but dead leaves
from july trees
scorched by
a brutal heat
too sunburnt
to evergreen
falling, fallen
brittle brown
leafy teardrops
raining down
the dry warm
forlorn face of
mother earth
—Terri Guillemets
for the harsh heat wave
wet apologetic gift
from clouds to tree roots
—Terri Guillemets
full moon monsoon clouds
glow pale light through windy trees
parched leaves shadow dance
—Terri Guillemets
watching birds splash in
morning-after rain puddles
cleanses my spirit
—Terri Guillemets
monsoon winds tell tales
lightning dances thunder sings
rain is main event
—Terri Guillemets
Birds in the springtime —
daredevilish in their quest
songful in their survival —
weightless wings — heavy risk
—Terri Guillemets
October has finally broken its scorching summer fever
turning the hesitant desert autumn into a true believer!
—Terri Guillemets
sprightly little yellow butterflies
flitter their aërial dance in pairs
through tireless mud dauber paths
and webs sway vacant in the breeze
of poor spiders caught unawares
—Terri Guillemets
I write of only 3%
of the landscape
around me —
the green trees
colorful flowers
amazingly adaptive
dryland wildlife
and blind myself
to the rest of it —
but it’s time
to take a good look
and acknowledge
my selective seeing —
the 97% is dull
barren, stark, harsh, hot
out my bedroom window
there is a plain brown
block walled fence, my
neighbor’s white-metal
shed roof, off of which
glares the sun so brightly
it’s blinding, not a speck
of green in sight, except
one small weed emerging
from dusty gray rocks —
yes, there is a lizard
on the wall, doing push-ups
in the morning sun
and I watch him
with fascination
awed with nature
I forget the surrounding
urban desert ugliness —
until suddenly I wonder
where will he get
his next water?
surely from someone’s
yard watering system
but where do we get
that precious water
for our thirsty homes?
and how much longer
will we be fortunate
enough to have it?
our city and county
allow so much over-
development, it feels
as if they are slowly
killing us, overcrowding
us, not caring about
our quality of life
nor the lizard’s —
but maybe, just maybe
we Phoenicians are
simply outright foolish
for trying to live here
in our air-conditioned
fortresses while the
city dries up around us
—Terri Guillemets