Wildflower Ramble

purple petaled flowers
Our footsteps bruise a dark trail
through foxtails, poppies, sky lupine.

Here among greasewood,
homesteads melt back to fern.
A sinking oak rots
into damp miner's lettuce.

Iron nails rust within tin filigree,
a termite bored trailer bed,
weather bowed axles. 

Last winter's yarrow
bisects acres of mustard.
Sage interrupts yellow broom.
Lichen sprouts from stone fractures.

Frantic doves, stirred by trespass,
splash across fog-smudged skies,
spilling soft wakes of feathers,

as hawk shadows paint
rugged hills, redwood canyons,
wild radish meadows.

Jennifer Lagier

Jennifer Lagier has published nineteen books. Her work appears in a variety of anthologies ezines, and literary magazines. She taught with California Poets in the Schools, edits the Monterey Review, helps coordinate Monterey Bay Poetry Consortium Second Sunday readings. Recent publications: Rising Voices: Poems Toward a Social Justice Revolution, Syndic Literary Journal, Fog and Light: San Francisco Through the Poets Who Live There, Second Wind: Words & Art of Hope & Resilience. Her most recent books: Meditations on Seascapes and Cypress (Blue Light Press), COVID Dissonance (CyberWit), and Camille Chronicles (FutureCycle Press).