Eight Poems from Dryside Verses: Four Seasons on Goodlow Rim by John Daniel
The maple is shedding— I lug in firewood, crushing summer with each step.
No visitors this month. Me alone for distraction.
To hike sidehill this slope studded with rocks is an awkward honor.
Ah, trapped spider, evolution didn’t plan on sinks.
Sleek does drink and nuzzle at the pond. On my desk, a gray hair.
Moonrise over Goodlow sends juniper shadows far downhill on frosted grass.
The pond skinned with creased ice this morning—a spider begins an expedition.
In the blue distances of snowy land this evening, spirit sings its silence.
John Daniel’s most recent books are Gifted, a novel, and Of Earth: New and Selected Poems. These poems are from a collection in progress, Dryside Verses: Four Seasons on Goodlow Rim, written during a sojourn in the semiarid steppeland of south-central Oregon. A former Wallace Stegner Fellow in Poetry at Stanford, Daniel has written ten books of essays, memoir, poetry, and fiction. He lives in the Coast Range foothills west of Eugene, Oregon.