South of Silver City is a very spiritual place, called the City of Rocks State Park. It was formed 35 million years ago as a result of volcanic uplift from a volcanic site 180 miles away. Mark took pictures and I will get around to posting them. But here is the poem I wrote which was a response to last week's Poetry Asides prompt, to write a poem about emptiness.
City of Rocks
Golden velvet hills
dotted with tendrils of green ocotillo
and clusters of creyosote
encircle the preserved landscape.
In the center I stand,
surrounded by a boulder
shaped like a whale
with its mouth wide open,
swallowing desert air.
Rain-padded paths connect
spaces between rocks
with memories of lava and ash
spewing from inside of earth
eons ago.
1 comment:
Very evocative of the place, which I visited many
Years ago with a person I remember fondly, but
Who I had not thought of for a very long time
Until reading your poem. Thank you for that memory.
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