There were orchards here once
and creeks that ran all the way to July.
In those days, we could cross one on foot
and up the embankment on the other side,
just below the walnut grove, long gone,
as well as deer who lay in the tall grass
and flew at our scent.
We walked then on land
not usually used for grazing,
the windy side of a knoll,
where fog settled into folds and stayed
under the spreading of an oak or laurel.
In outcroppings of granite, slid
between hard shapes
and stood in the silence,
pondering the unspoken questions, listening
for their stony answers.
Jerome Gagnon
Jerome Gagnon is the author of the recent collection Refuge for Cranes: Praise Poems from the Anthropocene and Rumors of Wisdom. His poetry has appeared in a variety of publications, including Spiritus, Poet Lore, and Modern Haiku. A former teacher and tutor, he lives in California in the San Francisco Bay Area. www.jeromegagnonblog.wordpress.com
