Summer

We wade through thickets of Spanish mustard blossoms.

Scattered sunlight among weeds,

their forked limbs spread

like arms proffered to the sky.

A spatter of streaks and color,

the hill briefly rendered in pointillism.

 

Spring speaks green, but summer falls

abrupt and lethargic, gold, yellow hot,

among the grass husks and the cactus that slump

like tired crosses on these desert slopes.

 

mustardcanadalarga1-1600

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