Manzanita Lake by Penelope Moffet

Manzanita Lakeby Penelope Moffet Shallow Sierra lake more sun-warmed than mostthough still fed by snow-melt. Maybe mild in summerbut not in late September, sun ready to go down,water mirroring trees and mountains. I edge in,feet sliding over stones and muck, skincringing into liquid cold enough to form another skin.He says to himself, “Am I doingContinue reading “Manzanita Lake by Penelope Moffet”

Yosemite: A Triptych by Mark A. Fisher

Yosemite: A Triptychby Mark A. Fisher once I went to Yosemite to see rocks and once to see the trees where wildflowers could feel the vast time immense and ancient fill all the meadows with moraines filling the valley hollowed out and left by glaciers lichen covered grown green fading away Mother nature drawing thousandsContinue reading “Yosemite: A Triptych by Mark A. Fisher”

Sequoia Sunrise by Mark A. Fisher

Sequoia Sunriseby Mark A. Fisher iciclestarlighthanging downthrough the silentred giantswhile the thumbnail moonspills silver lightthat pools in the meadowsand slowly seeps outinto the forest’til the barest hintsof red in the eastern skymakes the first bird begin todrowsily sing, rousing chickareehidden high up in the treesand answered by a woodpeckerbeating beating beating out the rhythmfor theContinue reading “Sequoia Sunrise by Mark A. Fisher”

I Have Seen Terezín by Andrena Zawinski

I Have Seen Terezínby Andrena Zawinski (from Frankie’s on the Divisadero in San Franciscoafter Friedl Dicker-Brandeis’“Untitled, 1944, Terezin”) The sign at Frankie’s Bohemian Cafe reads 6,303 miles to Prague.Inside a shadowed corner I have brambory, rough bread, Pilsner—the same way I did in the sleepy Bohemian border town of Terezín.I still hear from here mothers’Continue reading “I Have Seen Terezín by Andrena Zawinski”

Koi Pond, Oakland Museum by Susan Kolodny

Koi Pond, Oakland Museumby Susan Kolodny Our shadows bring them from the shadows:a yolk-yellow one with a navy patternlike a Japanese woodblock print of fish scales.A fat 18-karat one splashed with gaudy purpleand a patch of gray. One with a gold head,a body skim-milk-white, trailing ventral finslike half-folded fans of lace.A poppy-red, faintly disheveled one,andContinue reading “Koi Pond, Oakland Museum by Susan Kolodny”

Doggie Diner, Geary and Arguello, 1969 by Vince Gotera

Doggie Diner, Geary and Arguello, 1969 by Vince Gotera Out of San Francisco night, the cool fog’s gray fingers caressing hills and houses, emerged, in chef’s hat and bowtie, the Dog, ten-foot-tall dachshund’s head in fiberglass. Tina, my first real high school girlfriend, and I entered through the shiny glass doors, holding hands, both in hippieContinue reading “Doggie Diner, Geary and Arguello, 1969 by Vince Gotera”

San Francisco by Richard Brautigan

San Franciscoby Richard Brautigan This poem was found written on a paper bag by Richard Brautigan in a laundromat in San Francisco. The author is unknown. By accident, you putYour money in myMachine (#4)By accident, I putMy money in anotherMachine (#6)On purpose, I putYour clothes in theEmpty machine fullOf water and noClothes It was lonely.Continue reading “San Francisco by Richard Brautigan”

By Bus to Fresno by Philip Levine

By Bus to Fresno by Philip Levine I wakened at a filling station outside of Wasco to see the light breaking over the Sierras. The boy next to me asked were we there yet. He said it first in Spanish so perfect I smiled and said no. When he asked again in perfect English IContinue reading “By Bus to Fresno by Philip Levine”

Highway 58 Spring by Mark A. Fisher

Highway 58 Springby Mark A. Fisher driving east of Bakersfieldthe scent of oranges-yet-to-comefills the almost clean airthe moon not yet risen from behindthose worn down mountainsnot yet green– not yet smeared with wildflowersstill weeks awaythough the dream of themdrifts through the hillslike a tule fog Previously published in Mojave River Review Fall/Winter 2018 PHOTO: RollingContinue reading “Highway 58 Spring by Mark A. Fisher”

The Grand Silos of the Sacramento by Lawson Fusao Inada

The Grand Silos of the Sacramento by Lawson Fusao Inada From a distance, at night, they seem to be industries—all lit up but not on the map; or, in this scientific age, they could be installations for launching rocket ships— so solid, and with such security, are they. . . Ah, but up close, byContinue reading “The Grand Silos of the Sacramento by Lawson Fusao Inada”