Peu Verset by Don Thompson
The crows bicker all morning,
Irritable old drunks
Who get on each other’s nerves
Waiting for the bars to open.
Elk Hills, Late November
The air darkens just above the hills—
Haze and smoke, but also decay.
Maybe the sky like autumn leaves
Begins withering at the edges.
Drab landscapes never bore me:
Dun scrub, dust, low hills in the distance.
You can see so much
When nothing’s there to distract you.
Peu Verset Collection ©2018 Don Thompson
Don Thompson has been writing about the San Joaquin Valley for over fifty years, including a dozen or so books and chapbooks. For more info and links to publishers, visit his website at www.don-e-thompson.com